


American Muggles

by CoopPenny



Series: I’m More Than You Think [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Asshole teachers, Barista Harry, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Crack Treated Seriously, Ear Piercings, First Kiss, Friendship, Helpful Goblins, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Party, Piercings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rich Harry, Scarred Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, The Deathly Hallows, University, awesome friends, fear of planes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoopPenny/pseuds/CoopPenny
Summary: Still hurting from what he had found out, Harry decided he needed some time to himself. Alone and out of Britain for the first time in his life at age seventeen, Harry experience happiness for the first time in years.





	1. Over the ocean

It wasn't extremely hard for Harry to leave the Wizarding world behind. Emotionally - it was much harder. After all, he was leaving the place that he only ever really fit in, was leaving all of his friends and was leaving his godson Teddy, Remus and Tonks’ baby, behind. He wasn't going to leave them forever, of course, but he knew it would be a while before he would contact them again. Physically - leaving the Wizarding World was all too easy.

Being in the good graces of the Goblin's once again and his title as the Master of Death, encouraged them to work faster than they usually would to meet his requirements. Before he knew it, Harry had a quarter of his bank turned into muggle money, both American dollars and English pounds, an apartment in the USA bought out by him and a one way plane ticket to the Sates. He had no intentions of stepping foot in England for some time...

Now, he was on the plane, his new phone turned off and switching between gripping the wide arm rests or tugging at his blue hoodie. He didn't know what to do with himself, after all, he had never flown in a plane before - the Dursley's would never pay for him to come with them when they went abroad. Instead, they would lock him up in the house, turn the heating and electricity off with a bare minimum of food in the fridge, before they told him they would be back in two weeks. Dudley would never fail to show Harry their family photos, bragging about all the things he did, what they ate, where they stayed, aiming to rub it in Harry's face that he could never go. But Dudley didn't know was that Harry loved the photos, seeing that there was a wider world beyond his little cupboard under he stairs, a world where no one knew his face or cared for his past - it always gave him hope for a better future.

Sure, Harry loved to fly. He loved the wind in his hair, loved skimming his fingers through the fresh water below as he smiled at his reflection, loved that feeling in his gut as he dropped to the ground, hearing the terrified and concerned tones of the people around him, before he pulled up at the last possible minute. This was nothing like those times... This was a plane, a metal contraption that expanded and contracted to the pressure of the air, a metal cocoon that was flown by electricity and was guided by two men at the front. If this went badly, Harry had no way to escape safely, no way to save these people.

His breath started to pick up, chest visibly heaving as his nails dug, painfully, into the cushion of the armrest. He could feel his restrained magic beginning to flux, reacting to his mild panic. Desperately, he tried to keep a hold of it, tried to bring it within himself once again. After all, magic and technology just didn't mix well...

Suddenly a warm hand enclosed around his, the texture of the hand seemed to be bronzed by the sun in a natural way, small and delicate with short fingers to fit her petit hand. The nails weren't painted, but they shined with a varnish, kept short and well rounded with care. There were no other accessories around the area and so his green eyes trailed up to a delicate limb and to the face of a girl that was a head shorter than him, but older by a year or two, brown eyes, almost black, shined with kindness and concern, her black hair was tied back in a strict pony-tail with small curls falling to frame her thin face. Her nose was a little longer than average, ending in wide nostrils, and her lips were full, shimmering in the plane light with a soft, neutral pink.

"Hey, kid," came the thick feminine American accent, "You okay? Not gonna throw up are ya?" she questioned, smiling at her little joke while she shifted away half teasingly and half serious.

"What?" Harry asked dumbly, before he used his other hand to lift his glasses and rub firmly at the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, "No, I'm fine."

"Scared of heights?" she questioned, eyebrow raised.

"No. Scared of planes." Harry corrected as he forced himself to sigh and sit back in his chair, ignoring the comical way that the girl's other eyebrow had raised with the first. "I quite like heights, it's calming and thrilling. But I like to be in control so that I can save myself if something goes wrong." he admitted, wondering absently when the last time was when he had played Quiddich, or had just grabbed his broom and took off flying for no reason. He found himself missing those times...

"Okay," the girl nodded with acceptance, "I can understand that," she smiled, "I'm the opposite. I'm terrified of heights, but if someone else is there for me, I can deal." They lapsed into a comfortable silence as she traded a small smile with him. Then her dark eyebrows drew together, as if realising something, "Where're your parents? You don't look old enough to be going to the States alone."

"I'm seventeen," Harry frowned in confusion. Surely he was old enough to travel on his own by muggle standards?

"Oh," she uttered, slightly surprised, "You look a bit younger than that... So, what? You taking a gap year, travel the hell out of the country before going back?"

Harry nodded in contemplation. That was the gist of it anyway. He couldn't very well tell her that he was a war hero and he just wanted to get away from the nightmares for a little while. "Yeah. More or less," he saw her raise another expectant eyebrow making him quickly add on an awkward explanation of "It's complicated."

She nodded in acceptance and leaned back, then suddenly realised that she was still holding his hand and quickly retracted the contact, making a smile tug at his lips. He gave a small laugh when she caught his amusement and glared at him playfully, making herself laugh in turn.

"I'm Lucy Steale."

"Harry Potter."

They shook hands.

Throughout the rest of the flight, the pair talked, distracting one another from their fears, and finding that they got along like a house on fire. She told him that she had a twin called Daisy that had elected to stay at home, due to exams and studying that she had to do, while Lucy visited their grandparents, who had decided to move out to the bitter UK to live out their remaining days - her grandma was originally from the UK. She had stayed in their small country house for two weeks before she had to go back to her small town in California and to Los Angeles where he attended University.

"You're kidding." Harry deadpanned, disbelief and hope churning in his chest. "You're going to LA?"

"Yeah?"

"That's where I'm heading. Got an apartment sorted for myself and everything. If its close enough, I bet you could stay with me, there's plenty of room and the rent's quite cheap if I'm honest and I was going to be looking for a roommate anyways. Might as well be someone with a friendly face than a stranger." he offered, thinking about the things he would need to do in order for someone to stay with him. However, he may have told her a small white lie as he had technically bought the apartment for temporary use and so if Lucy were to live there, she'd be paying _him_ rent. Though, she might not even take it...

Shaking himself out of his contemplations, Harry looked at the girl beside him, suddenly realising that she hadn't spoken in the past few minutes. He wondered what was wrong. Suddenly, he was enveloped by an enthusiastic American as she squealed loudly in his ear, shocking him into stillness.

"Excuse me, can you please be quiet?" a stewardess chastised them with a judging stare and Harry blushed lightly at the looks the two were being given in the surrounding area.

Lucy didn't seem so embarrassed as she smiled brightly up at the stewardess, who still wore a slight frown of contempt, as she whispered an unapologetic, "Sorry." before promptly ignoring the people around them. She stared at Harry with bright, hopeful eyes, "I would love to live with you," she gushed, "I've been looking for a place for a year, but there's been no luck. I thought I was going to have to drop out of University because the accommodations were so expensive. How big is it? How many bedrooms does it have? Is it near the University of California, LA? How much-"

"Lucy," Harry interrupted, cutting her off sharply, and gave her a small smile to show that he meant well, "How about I tell you after the flight? Then I can show you the place as well. I haven't really looked at it, apart from the pictures." he smiled, pleased by her enthusiasm and easy acceptance of his offer. It made him feel like it was the right choice in going to America. It made him smile and feel something light and warm within his chest, something that took him a moment to register as happiness. Merlin, how long had he been unhappy for?

The rest of the flight was completed with idol chatter, mainly Lucy gasping and exclaiming in a scandalised manner whenever he claimed not to know of this movie, that song, or that actor (a Wizard became extremely detached from the muggle world, whether they were raised in it or not) and ended up making a list of things that he _had_ to catch up on. She seemed happy enough to introduce these things to him though, despite looking so horrified and shocked at his lack of knowledge. Harry found himself smiling more than he had in ages, his cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much during the flight. Lucy’s attitude and personality so utterly fresh and new to him that Harry found himself wanting to spend more and more time with her.

Before he knew it, the flight was over and the two were talking about splitting a cab together, Lucy wanting to see Harry’s place before she shook off her jet lag. Hours later, having spent more time with the young woman, had Harry smiling even more, relaxing for what felt like the first time since the Triwizard Tournament, when Cedric had died and Voldemort had risen in the physical world once again...

“Hey,” interrupted Lucy’s voice, her American accent tinted with concern and when he turned to look at her, her expression had creased into concern as well, “You okay? You look like you went into a dark place, right then.” Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes unconsciously shifting to the window as to avoid her assessing gaze, effectively closing himself off. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here if you need me,” she smiled reassuringly, face open and free of any judging emotions, “We are friends after all."

A smile twitched at his lips. To think that people could make friends this fast, Harry would have thought it nuts, impossible. Yet, here he was, with a girl that he actually considered his friend, someone that he actually wanted to console himself to. He decided to go for the leap…

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he started softly, “Just thinking about a friend that was a bit like you. He was nice to everyone, even when they didn’t particularly deserve his generosity…” he trailed off, thinking of the time that he saw Cedric directing Draco and his friends to the correct classes in their first year, after an older Slytherin had pointed them the wrong way. He remembered Draco’s sneer at the older student before he turned on his heel and headed to where Cedric had directed them with a kind smile on his face, not a nod of gratitude or word of thanks from Draco or his friends. The Hufflepuff had only waved off the rude first years before he followed the rest of his group to class.

“Was?” Lucy picked up.

“Yeah, he died about... two years ago. God, it seems like only yesterday…” he muttered as he stared into nothing ahead of him with haunted green eyes.

“You saw him die didn’t you?” came the all too uncertain question, staring intently at his face as if measuring his reaction to the inquiry. His flinch gave him away… “Oh, honey… I’m so sorry for your loss. I wont bring it up again. I promise.” she insisted gently, dark brown eyes practically pleading for forgiveness after picking at such an old wound of Harry’s.

In response, Harry could only give a small jerky nod, untrusting of his voice. Clearing his throat, he aimed a half smile at the girl next to him, “You seem too good at all the comfort stuff… Any chance you’d be studying in that kind of thing?"

Lucy gave a smile of her own, all too glad for the change of subject, “I’m majoring in psychology. Top of my class.” she half gloated, shifting her dark locks of hair like they were highly preened feathers that were a mastery of art, “My twin is majoring art and design in the same university. She’s really good too, getting some recognition from some high people in the art world. Her signature is actually a small daisy in the corner. I think it’s brilliant.” she gushed, practically beaming with pride at her sister’s accomplishment, something that was so different from Ron and his regards to his older brothers.

They spoke for the rest of the car ride about light subjects, not once lapsing into an awkward silence, like two friends that had known one another for years.

When they arrived at his new home, the place was already filled up with his boxed possessions (though there weren’t many boxes, in all), ready for him to unpack and make a home out of the bare rooms before him. The space around him was quite large, larger than what he was expecting with a kitchen and living room conjoined into one space nearly as big as the Weasley’s ground floor. To the left of the front door was a small bathroom, the door a light shade of oak wood, the space equipped with a toilet, sink and standing-shower crammed into one space. Stepping further into the living room, away from the door, there was a wooden door, the same shade as the bathroom’s, that led into a bedroom that was already decorated with a double bed and a nightstand, the wide window making the space more open. A few paces down revealed a room of a similar state to the first, both sharing a large bathroom that had doors connected to it at both ends. On the wall adjacent to the first two rooms was another room, a bedroom that shared the same qualities of the previous two. In all, it was a rather comfortable living space and Harry was shocked that the Goblins had taken so much time as to finding him a living space that accommodated his fear of small spaces due to his childhood room, that had been a dark cupboard under the stairs. How they knew of such a thing, he didn’t know but wasn’t much surprised that they did.

“Wow…” Harry slowly spun on his heel as he eyed the surroundings, green eyes wide and sparkling with delight, “It didn’t look this big in the photos…”

However, before he could get comfortable, a tentative “Harry.” was spoken behind him, making him spin around to face Lucy. Lucy who looked depressed, disappointed and worried. It made Harry wonder what could have dampened this bright girl’s mood, and if he could possibly change it.

“Lucy, what’s wrong?” he took a hesitant step forward, breathing a subtle sigh of relief when she didn’t flinch back from him.

“Harry…” she sighed, a hand coming to her head, rubbing it as if to rid herself of an oncoming headache, “I don’t think I can afford this. I mean, the place is great, awesome actually, but I don’t know if I could ever afford a place like this with the paid work I do and classes. You probably can because your parents are probably paying for you-"

“My parents are dead.” Harry stated flatly, stopping Lucy in her tracks. She stared at him with wide eyes, uncertain of how she could possibly respond to such a terrible and sudden reveal, “They were murdered when I was a baby. The murderer tried to kill me as well, but they never got the chance,” he lifted his hair to show his scar, evidence of his attack, “I was placed in my Aunt’s care, but she and her family hated me and my parents... I bought this place with the money I got from the government as the authorities never caught the murderer and for my abuse that I had tried to plead help for, but was dismissed. That’s how I can afford this place. And I’d like you to live with me, and share in paying the bills, because rent is not an issue here.” he finished, a shaky smile on his lips, before he just couldn’t take her continued silence and quickly looked away, jaw clenching with emotions that he just didn’t want to think about at the moment…

Suddenly, all the air was squeezed out of his lungs as a force slammed into him, casting both him and his attacker onto the old-looking sofa. His vision was filled with smothering dark hair and a female voice speaking in a rapid tongue that Harry could barely differentiate. He blinked out of his stupor as Lucy drew away from her bombarding hug and kissed him on the cheek, smiling as bright as a thousand suns.

“I guess that’s a yes to wanting to be roommates?” Harry wheezed out, laughing slightly when Lucy squealed an ecstatic ‘yes' and proceeded to hug the life out of him.


	2. Daisy and Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not American, I’m English, so if I’ve made any offensive presumptions, tell me and I’ll remove it straight away. No harm done. Thanks.

It really took no time at all for Harry to become settled and for Lucy to start moving in, brining her twin sister along with to fill up the third room that Harry hadn’t known would be there.

He adapted quite well in being in the muggle world after so much time. While he’d gone back to his aunt’s every summer, many things had been regulated from him (not wanting him to damage delicate equipment such as computers and such), and most of his summer had been indoors, locked inside and forced to catch up with the numerous chores he had missed while he was off being a ‘freak’. Even the town library wasn’t an option, having been barred years prior due to Dudley knocking over a whole stand of books and blaming it on him. So, Harry was very much detached from the muggle world, not to the extent of the Weasley’s, but it was enough.

With the combine help of Lucy and Daisy, they were able to set up all things that scream ‘muggle comfort’, there were electrical equipment in the kitchen, a television in the living room and desks with computers and draws filled with batteries, plugs and wires that Harry refused to even touch. This little fact amused the girls to no end...

Daisy Steale, five minutes and thirty-two seconds younger than her twin sister Lucy, wasn’t like a carbon copy of her sister. While at first glance, the girls truly did look eerily similar, upon second glance Harry could identify one from the other, his critical green eyes spotting things that set them apart faster than anyone normally would. While Lucy’s eyes were set in a dark, almost black iris, Daisy’s held a lighter tint than her sister. Daisy had a slight angle to her jaw that Lucy didn’t have; Lucy had an arch to her nose that Daisy didn’t have; Daisy had a single freckle almost hidden under the left side of her jaw, while Lucy’s skin was completely unblemished. The way they held themselves, the way they started a sentence, the way they shifted and touched things was completely different from one another in such a startling way that Harry found it confusing how anyone could ever mix the two up. But to the normal human’s perspective, one that hadn’t seen war, or hadn’t had to learn the politics of the up-turned Purebloods, would never know the difference.

The fact that he could tell them apart as easily as night and day had them both liking him even more.

Their first outing as a group had been to the beach, Los Angeles being on the coast and conveniently only an hour drive away. The beach had been full of golden sand, almost white in the blazing sun, and the water was a tempting aqua blue. While Harry had never been to many beaches in his life, the ones he had seen (cold, grey-skied, storm-blue waters, jagged rocks, dark looming caves with long-hidden secrets that were the stuff of nightmares…) had been nothing compared to this one. It was packed with people of all races, ages and gender, all laughing or having fun in some way (Harry elected to ignore the screaming children that were throwing tantrums about not getting ice-cream). Both Lucy and Daisy had dragged him to the nearest dry patch next to the sea, having bought Harry three different swimming trunks after discovering that he had none - they didn’t ask why he’s never owned a pair and Harry suspected that they were finding out the truth of his abusive past by themselves. After much badgering, they finally got Harry to take off his shirt and join them in the cool waters. They never once spoke or indicated the many scars he had on his person, despite the people around them staring which made Harry shift and clench his hands uncomfortably. However, soon enough, Harry completely forgot about the stares as he started to relax and have fun, chest brimming with uncontainable carefree laughter than most teenagers his age were accustomed to.

It was also the day that he discovered the twin’s personality traits of fierce protection. After they were all worn out and the air had taken on a subtle chill to indicate the evening approaching soon, they had gathered their belongings and headed to Lucy’s car. When Harry gave a thumbs up to Daisy’s question of a good time, his hand was suddenly seized by Lucy, grip firm but not painful as she guided his hand to her eyes. It didn’t take him long to figure out what had caught her eye, especially when her lips became pursed and her hands shook with silent rage.

“Who did that to you?” she asked with a low voice, barely restrained anger leaking into it.

Harry looked at the pale scar on his hand, one that was probably more horrific than all the rest as it spelt out the words: ‘I must not tell lies’. However, due to the fact that a scar like that one was not uncommon for a select few at Hogwarts, he’d forgotten about the inscription being something that would normally inspire rage from other people’s perspectives.

“Teacher at school. Don’t worry, she’s in prison, now.” he reassured with a small smile, Lucy giving a jerky nod in acceptance before she grabbed his hand for her own comfort for what she had discovered to be one of the many terrible things that had been done to her friend. Harry could only smile at the reaction, feeling warm that someone seemed to care about him so much.

When he told the girls about his want for a job but his lack of qualifications, they were immediately on his case about his clothes, wrinkling their noses at his choice in thread-bare, wash-away, colourful t-shits that were four sizes too big for him. That was when he first experienced an American Shopping Mall. Honestly, he never wanted to go again, much preferring the quiet shop of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. They had him wearing skinny jeans and fitted shirts, button-ups, straight-legged, long-sleeved, high collared, round-neck, v-neck - it just went on and on. By the time they were finished, Harry was decisively less happy with his purchases equalling ten bags or so, while the twins walked in front, smiling and laughing with only one light-weight bag each as they strutted to Lucy’s car.

“I don’t know why I put up with you guys,” he groaned weakly from behind them, “I should just kick you guys out, save me the misery of two terrors instead of the one I signed up for…”

Both turned and grinned wolfishly at him simultaneously, both of their voices ringing at the same time as they said, “Sure Harry.” before carrying on. The act sent a sudden pang through his chest and had him seeing a flash of red hair with twin smiles that stood out as wide and mischievously as Lucy and Daisy’s had. Quickly, he shook off the thought before it could become any more depressing and rushed to catch up with the girls that were now skipping towards the car, arm in arm like a terrifying two-woman army…

Often, he found himself comparing the two sister’s to another pair of twins that he used to know. He told the girls all the time about his friends, though he had no photographs that didn’t move to prove of their existence and so could never show them, but he mainly brought up Fred and George, telling them of there antics, their legendary pranks against students and teachers alike, their cunning and their light. He told them that Fred had recently died, though he did not specify his death, making the twin girls grow quiet and clutch one another’s hands, looking at one another as they simultaneously contemplated a life where they no longer had each other and shivered with horror at the thought of it.

After he got the ‘look’ he needed for his interviews, he went from shop to shop, giving in his slip of paper that described him as a caring, dedicated and hard-working soul that only strived to learn, which was why he had travelled to America. Most never called him back, despite promising to and by the end of the week, Harry was close to giving up and throwing in the towel when it finally happened.

The ring of his phone was shrill and had badly startled him as he and the girls were curled up under the blanket on a sofa, watching Freddie Kruger which he didn’t find that scary, often looking to the twins, who ducked and gasped in surprise or fright, snuggling closer to one another for protection.

For a moment, Harry looked around him, eyeing the girls next to him on the sofa in question, before Daisy rolled her eyes and mimed a phone before pointing forcefully at him. Harry frowned for a moment, before his eyes lit up in realisation, scrambling to grab at his silver flip phone that he always kept in his jacket pocket as the people could call him for an interview at any time.

“Hello?” he hastily answered, sitting on the edge of his seat as he stared at the blank wall in front of him, the television paused and the side light switched on, waiting with baited breath for a reply.

Then came a cool, crisp British voice that he could only associate with one friend - a certain bookish girl. Harry couldn’t help the small smile that automatically curled his lips at the sound of her quick and hurried voice that he felt he hadn’t heard in so long, “Hello? Harry? Is that you? It’s Hermione-“

“HELLO!!!” came the sudden exclamation, making Harry wince and hold the phone away from his ear, glaring at the device fondly, for he knew who the sudden speaker had been. He chuckled lowly as he caught sight of Lucy and Daisy’s expressions, surprised by the shout, that shifted to confusion as it obviously wasn’t someone looking to interview him, before finally realisation as they both came to the conclusion that it was an over seas friend of Harry’s.

“-Honestly, Ron. There’s no need for that level of noise. He can hear us perfectly fine, without you attempting to reach him from across the Pacific Ocean.” Hermione berated with an eye roll that was practically audible from where Harry was, “Anyway. Harry,” she started, “Where are you? We’re going to bring you back so that you can stop being so ridiculous. You need to finish your schooling.” she insisted.

At that point, Harry’s small smile faded away into nothing, like dust in the wind. He heard Lucy and Daisy shift beside him, obviously picking up on his change of mood.

“Well, least you could’ve done was bring us with ya, Harry.” Ron tagged on, tone highlighted with mirth and a hint of jealousy that he didn’t quite manage to hide.

“I told you: I’m not coming back.” Harry stated, steel in his tone of voice that all listening to him seemed to notice as the line on the other end of the phone went eerily silent, “Too much has happened Hermione. Far too much for me to shrug off and pretend it never happened. What am I supposed to do when I see where they died? When I see those people that were against us around it? When I see how few of us there actually are now? I need time. And when you get there… You’ll understand what I mean.” his voice broke at the end before he snapped his phone shut, glad when it didn’t ring again with Hermione’s contempt on the other end.

“Hey,” interrupted a voice, as a warm, soft hand landed on his shoulder, making him flinch slightly. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone… “Wanna talk about it?” Daisy asked, a concerned frown on her face, the exact match of her sister’s. At Harry’s nonverbal shake of his head, Daisy made a small sound of understanding before she was wrapping him up in her arms, hugging him in a way that he pictured his mother doing to him if she were still alive… Before he knew what he was doing, he was lifting his arms, hugging her back just as fierce as she was hugging him. On his other side, Lucy did the same and Harry finally relaxed into their combine hold, filled with warmth.

They didn’t ask him about the phone call, or what he had said to his friends back in Britain. In all, it was forgotten in favour of their lives.

The next morning, Harry got another phone call, one that filled him with hopeful joy as he heard a stranger’s voice on the other end, asking if he was still looking for a job and that if he came in for a training day that day, he could have it. Immediately, he jumped at the chance and was there by nine in the morning, vibrating with positive energy. By the end of the day, Harry got a job as a barista, and leaned fast about all the different blends and shakes for the menu, treating each customer with respect and enthusiasm like a damned natural - his British accent made it all the more batter, people thinking him as exotic and different which drew more people in. They gave him a uniform: a vibrant green button up shirt that he could roll up the arms for, the logo on the breast pocket; a brown apron that circled his waist; a brown towel that was optional to wear over his shoulder while he made up the drinks.

It wasn’t until a few days later, when Lucy and Daisy started their second year of University that he realised how close to the campus his work really was. He got a lovely surprise when the twins came in, fresh from their first set of classes and got a drink, a cheeky glint in their eyes. However, they were not alone, as a tall blonde man soon joined them at their table, a tired slouch to his broad shoulders as he rubbed his large hands through his fluffy hair and over his chiselled chin that was decorated in a five o’clock shadow. He had a large and defined build and as Harry caught the stranger’s eye, he noted that they were the clearest blue that he had ever seen, like the sky on a bright summer’s day. The man then gave a little wave to Harry, making the dark haired teen blush furiously as he swiftly turned his gaze and returned to his work, ignoring the small, charming smirk that the man bore when Harry caught him in the corner of his eye.

“Hey, Harry,” Daisy greeted him over as he cleaned some tables near them, “How’s work? _Utterly exhausting_?” she mocked in a terrible British accent.

The Wizard titled his head as he contemplated, before giving a small bob of his head, green eyes looking back at her, “Has its ups and downs, but the rest of the guys I work with are really nice so its alright,” then he directed an evil grin at her and Lucy, amusement twinkling in his eye, “How’s Hell on Earth? Torturous, I hope.”

Lucy drank the rest of her coffee like alcohol in a shot-glass, before putting it down with a firm thud, “Got it right in one, RG.” Harry could only roll his eyes at the abbreviated nickname as he moved onto another table.

“RG?” came the confused deep voice of the mysterious blonde that had sat with the girls.

“Oh,” Harry blinked, blushing at his neglected manners, “I’m ever so sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m Hadrian Potter, but Harry’s good. And Lucy was referring to my unabbreviated nickname of ‘Rebel Geek’.” he rolled his eyes again, willing away the blush that he felt as a lingering heat on his cheeks.

“I’m David Jordan. Dave.” he introduced himself with a smile as he offered Harry a hand, which the Brit immediately accepted, noting absently how the hand nearly engulfed his own (perhaps David had a bit of Giant in his genes from long, long ago). “‘Rebel Geek’?” he enquired, amusement leaking into his voice and small smirk growing wider at Lucy’s delight and Harry’s eye roll.

“He’s only seventeen. Refused to go back to school when they wanted him to redo his last year and ran away to America where he met me on the plane. Rebel.” she explained, with a pompous tone, "But he’s crazy smart! Read through my five-hundred page textbook like it was a Monday morning of light reading! And he could recall every fact about it! Reads through books like it’s no one’s business. Geek.” she finished with a sagely shake of her head, Daisy joining in.

“What about your parents?” Dave asked, frowning with a hint of confusion at the dark haired teenager.

“Orphan.” Harry dismissed easily as he pointed a thumb at himself and carried on cleaning the table, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain upon the light wood.

“Oh, man, I’m really sor-"

“It’s fine,” Harry waved off with a gentle smile, “I was a baby when I lost them, wouldn’t know what they looked like if I didn’t have the pictures. My Aunt was glad to be rid of me, given my 'trouble making ways’,” he directed a smile at Lucy for the last comment, “And I had enough money to come here, so I did. Honestly, there was no love lost between us.” he dismissed the blonde’s guilty gaze, before he had to go up to the front again and serve some more customers that were waiting patiently for his return.

When his shift was ended, he quickly packed up his belongings and jogged out to the University’s main gates, his discussed meeting point for Lucy and Daisy.

When the two girls came out, they also had a third member between them, David.

“Hey, RG!” Lucy waved, a tired, but happy smile on her face as she sped towards Harry and wrapped him in a quick hug before moving them to walk in a half embrace, Lucy dropping her head onto his shoulder as they walked.

“I hope you don’t mind, we brought Dave along for a movie night,” Daisy smiled politely in greeting, Dave giving a small wave behind her when Harry looked.

“Yeah, sure,” he smiled at them and then they entered a casual conversation, banter being exchanged back and forth as easily as a group of friends that had known one another for years, Harry adding in his two cents when he could as they mainly talked about their classes.

“What was your worst teacher, Harry?” Dave suddenly asked, cutting across the conversation between Lucy and Daisy.

“Professor Snape. He was in charge of our… er, chemistry class, but he hated me from the word ‘go’. See, my father and his friends used to bully Snape when they were in school, and since he never resolved the issue when my Dad was alive, he took it out on me, asking me questions I had no hope in answering, calling me out for my experiments and saying how terrible it was and what a waist of ingredients it had been…” Harry trailed off, thinking of the humanoid dungeon-bat with dark greasy hair and a sneer on his face whenever he said Harry’s name, “Though he wasn’t all that bad. Protected me from things that I couldn’t quite understand until I was older. Kind of regretting my relationship with him when he went the way he did…” Harry finished, green eyes misted with the pictures of the past, his fingers shifted slightly as if he could still feel the odd texture of blood coating his hands completely.

Suddenly he was brought out of his thoughts as a large hand settled on his hair, threading into the dark strands before resting on his head, a warm weight that felt oddly nice. Looking up, he found his green meeting the sky blue eyes of a concerned Dave.

Smiling apologetically, Harry nodded his thanks as he released a slow breath, “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

“Don’t talk crap, H.” Dave smirked as he playfully ruffled Harry’s hair, making the teen give out a loud squawk as they all laughed and continued walking.

Soon, they were all on the long sofa, cuddled warmly together, fast asleep, as the last credits of the second Lord of the Rings scrolled across the screen, alarms in place for them to wake up in the morning for work and classes.


	3. Dreams of Leaving

“If they annoy you so much, why don’t you just get laser-eye surgery, or contacts maybe? I bet it’ll be a hit with the ladies.” Harry’s work friend offered, as he cleaned one of the round tables with wide strokes, Harry cleaning his own square table with a small harsh rubbing as to get out a particularly stubborn stain. Glancing over at the older boy, pushing up his glasses once again, Harry rolled his eyes as Thomas wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Thomas Peck was a university student as well as a barista, though he was a year older than the twins and Dave, and he seemed like a cool guy. He was small, similar in build to Harry, arms thin and knees knobbly, but he was tall - easily reaching the top shelf that Harry had to get a stool in order to reach. His eyes were a hazel colour that seemed to switch between deep brown and vibrant green, though not as vibrant as Harry’s eyes, in different lights. The man’s hair was a deep urban colour, the strands becoming a fiery red in direct sunlight, and curled around his high cheek bones, framing the map of freckles over his face even more than usual. He had a missing tooth in his canines from ‘rough-housing’ with his three older brothers when he’d been younger, but the gap was oddly suited to him and he showed it off at every chance he got, eyeing girls flirtatiously as he leaned over the counter, telling the story of his missing tooth like he’d lost it defending a woman’s honour, or against a brutal thug that was ‘three times’ his size. Each story was absolutely ridiculous and every one that Harry overheard, he could barely mask the laughter that seemed to bubble out of him.

“If I do get laser eye surgery, it’ll be for me, not some girls,” Harry gave a small smile, lips twitching slightly upwards as he worked, “Unlike you, Thomas, I am not driven by my primal instincts when faced with a young lady.”

Hazel eyes rolled so hard that Harry wondered how he was able to keep them in their sockets, muttering with a small huff, “_Hadrian_, stop being such a stiff Brit.” putting emphasis on the Wizard’s name, making Harry’s growing smirk fall into a pout that made the other give a bark of laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have introduced myself as Hadrian to you…” Harry mumbled, moving onto another table and spraying it with his cleaning contents, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to call me ‘Harry’?”

“Not until you call me ‘Tom’.” Thomas grinned back, before quickly finishing up on his table and going back to clean something at the counter and so completely missed Harry’s pained wince. There was a very good reason that Harry refused to call his American friend ‘Tom’ and that was because it brought up memories that were just much too unpleasant, mind casting back to the lifeless body that hit the ground after a spell fired by Harry, a body that had gone by the name of ‘Tom’ when he had been young and somewhat innocent…

Shaking off the unwanted memories, Harry finished up with his own table and joined the elder male back at the counter, watching as he polished up the last bit of surface before they needed to close up store. Silently, Harry took off his glasses, staring at the familiar blurry circles that had been his only option of a clear vision for years. He’d been with them for so many years now, something from before his Hogwarts days and and during. They were a symbol in the Wizarding world. He remembered when he’d asked Hagrid if they had any potions to help his eye-sight, but had been persuaded against when he was told that his father had worn the same type of glasses. And so, in order to be closer to his father, he had kept the glasses. After a time, the glasses had become something to identify him and pick him out of the crowds, a symbol that made up the image of their boy-hero…

Glaring down at the glasses, Harry released a sigh and reluctantly put them back on. His glasses were a tie to the magical world and to his childhood of abuse and the more he thought of it, the more he wanted the glasses gone, to cut the tie that linked him to his former self that was weak and withdrawn under the crippling weight of other people’s expectations. His glasses were possibly the last remaining shackle that he hadn’t broken with the British Wizarding world (that and his scar, of course).

With that thought in mind, Harry hummed, catching his friend’s attention as he cast a questioning look Harry’s way. “I think maybe I will get that surgery then. They’ve been more of a hinderance than a use with all the times they’ve been broken or lost,” he muttered with thought, remembering the countless times that Dudley had broken his glasses, or they had fallen in a fight and he’d had to go without for a few seconds. “But I think you’ll have to help me with finding someone to do it 'cause I have no idea.”

Nodding, the freckled man grinned as he patted Harry’s shoulder, before making his way to the back of the store where they kept their possessions locked away while they worked, “Trust me, you’ll be glad to be rid of them. Without glasses, you’re eyes will stand out more instead of being hidden behind those dumb lenses. We’ll get you some contacts first though, ‘cause the appointment might not be for a while.” Thomas nodded his head, unbothered by the bouncy ringlets that seemed to spiral everywhere with the movement, though Harry had to cover his mouth to hide the small grin at the sight his friend made.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Harry agreed as he hitched his own bag over his shoulder and followed his coworker out the back door, double checking that the machines and lights were off along the way. As they made their way outside into the crisp, cool evening air, Harry found that the sky was already beginning to dim, the usual heat of LA cooling as the days grew shorter, though it wasn’t as bad as England during this time of year - or Scotland for that matter.

Harry eyed his friend as Thomas did the last lock-ups and wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, like he was freezing cold. When he turned around, hazel eyes glared fiercely at Harry’s natural resilience to the cold, with not a shiver from him as the cool wind suddenly blew passed. “Dude, how are you not cold?” he asked with a hint of incredulousness and jealousy colouring his tone.

Raising one eyebrow, Harry gave a small one-shoulder shrug, before taking in a lung-full of crisp air that still seemed slightly warm to him. This was the type of temperature that they’d get in Spring, not early Autumn. “I’m from England, remember? The land of eternal grey skies?” he waved a hand around them, “This is nothing. Do you even get snow here during the end of Autumn or in winter?”

The young adult beside him groaned loudly and looked up to the sky like he was asking God why he was being punished so terribly, and then looked down at his short friend with a deadpanned look, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s called ‘Fall’ here, and while you’re here in the good lands of America, you should say that too.”

Harry hummed, a small grin twitching at his lips as he eyed his friend out of the corner of his eye, “Yes, the good lands of America that we, Brits, discovered and that you originated from. After all this time, it was you that decide to adopt ridiculous accents and start butchering the English language.” Harry finished with a haughty huff and stuck his nose in the air, imitating what his aunt used to do whilst talking to her neighbours.

There was a small silence between the two of them as they stared at one another from the corners of their eyes, and then Thomas gave a loud “pfft” before he started to howl with laughter, Harry joining immediately after. Both of them were now shrieking at the pavement below their feet, ignoring the various looks that they were receiving for their loud display.

As the laughter died down to chuckles, they continued their walk together.

“So,” Harry started, still smiling from his laughing fit, “You coming round for movie night. I think Dave wanted to introduce a film called Star Tech, or something, tonight.”

At this, Thomas gave a small sigh of frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s called Star Trek. Trek, with a ‘k’. Honestly, it’s like you grew up under a rock or something… And yes, I’ll come, but I’ll be studying as well.” he shook his head as Harry rolled his eyes at the slight overreaction of his friend. Honestly, they had all reacted that way when Harry appeared to have no clue what pop-culture seemed to be, completely lost on their references and jokes about this movie, or that game. It was all rather confusing and Harry had come to wonder once or twice abut why the hell muggles would need so many things in order to occupy their seemingly excessive imagination.

Suddenly, Harry clapped his hands, causing Thomas to give him a startled look, that soon turned into an expectant expression with one thick eyebrow raised. Realisation lighting up Harry’s green eyes, he pointed to his friend, “I almost forgot. Daisy asked me to invite you to this ‘Thanks’ thing. Apparently, she asked her family to skip a year and so the twins and Dave are going to be spending it at our apartment. She demanded that you attend as well.”

“‘Thanks’ thing?” Thomas asked rhetorically, amusement dripping from his tone, “Do you know anything about American history?”

“I know it was formerly British history, little cousin.” Harry smiled charmingly as he pushed himself to his toes in order to ruffle Thomas’s hair in mock affection, laughing when the older boy gave a loud squawk and shoved his hand away, ‘correcting' his hair as he threaded his fingers through it.

“That’s gotta start getting old by now.” Thomas grumbled as he twerked a strand of his hair into place, frowning in frustration when it didn’t fall perfectly into line.

“It’s really not,” Harry grinned, feeling chuff, “So what is all this ‘thanks’ business?” he questioned, curiosity practically pliable.

“It’s basically a Fall Harvest feast that the settlers shared with the Natives of the land,” Thomas shrugged at his friend, the pair falling into step with one another, “When I was little, my mum would have the whole family over and we’d be all smartly dressed and have to give separate toasts about what we were ‘thankful’ for, like ‘I’m thankful for the roof over my head’, or ‘I’m thankful for mum’s cooking’ - that kind of thing.” He finished and Harry have a small nod, still not completely understanding the holiday. “So this’ll be your first Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah. We only have the traditional holidays back home. You know, Christmas and Easter. My school didn’t really celebrate Easter though…” Harry frowned, thinking back to that time of year and remembering when Hermione would complain about the lack of chocolate eggs. Harry never really felt the loss of Easter, he never received any eggs from his Aunt and Uncle, so he could never synthesis with her. “It was mainly just Halloween and Christmas, which they called Samhain and Yule which are pagan holidays.”

There was a small silence between them as Thomas just silently stared down at a thoughtful looking Harry with a blank expression. “Your old school sounds like hell.”

Harry’s only response to that was a deadpanned stare.

“So you coming? Daisy and Lucy seemed really weird when they told me to invite you. Like they’d hunt-you-down-themselves-if-you-didn’t-agree kind of weird.” Harry commented, still wondering why this holiday seemed so important.

Rapidly loosing colour in his cheeks, Thomas gave a jerky nod, knowing from experience how ‘weird' women could be around this holiday and seeing those traits in the twins as he saw in his own mother. He looked to Harry’s clueless and innocent expression and his heart went out to the young teen who didn’t know the horror that was to come.

Clasping Harry on the shoulder mournfully, like some silent farewell, all he could say was, “I’m coming.”

They continued their walk, talking about random things that happened that day, laughing and bantering back and forth like a game of tag, until they came to a step near a stone wall that was part of the front entrance for the university. Hopping up on the wall with little difficulty, the two friends then spent around ten minutes talking as they waited for the others. Harry absently scrolled through his play list, marvelling at all the different songs available to him with a touch of his finger - the only down side to the touch screen device being that he had to plug it into a wall every night and let it charge. Perhaps, if he were able to charge the devise by using his magic as a renewable energy, then he could filter it into the device by touch and it would never run out of electrical energy. Perhaps…

Shaking his head of the Hermione-like thoughts, Harry startled slightly when his ribs were poked by a small finger, that felt like a blunt knife jabbing into him. The assaulter made themselves known as Lucy stepped out from behind him and grinned widely at her British friend, erasing the small beginnings of a pout from Harry’s face as he couldn’t help but smile back. Both of them simultaneously opened their arms and embraced in a fierce hug that had Dave and Thomas chuckling beside them.

Laughing as they broke up, Harry’s arms automatically found themselves around both Lucy and Daisy as they walked beside him, one of their possessive hands resting around him in turn. “Had a nice class?"

“Why do you always ask that when you know what answer you’ll get?” Daisy rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, Bond, you sound like our dad when we were in High School…” Lucy grumbled with her own eye roll.

Harry could only frown in confusion though. “Bond?”

There was a small silence as his small group of friends just looked at him with various expressions of shock and horror.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You don’t know who James Bond is?! You’re British!” Thomas shouted at their youngest member, smacking his hands to his face and then groaning loudly when Harry just gave him a blank expression.

“Right,” Dave intervened before Thomas could carry on with his ranting, “That’s another thing added to the list.”

“What’s that? Around fifty films, now?” Lucy asked sarcastically, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to get through them all before I go.” Harry murmured thoughtfully, wondering if maybe muggles had a way to brining the television with them to watch the movies and shows that they liked. He didn’t notice the sudden tension until a few moments later and he looked around to find them all staring at him. “What?”

Lucy and Daisy suddenly pulled to a stop, stepping in front of Harry, frowns of concern and confusion on their faces, with Thomas and Dave stopping just behind, looking just as worried as the twins. “What do you mean ‘when’ you leave, Har?” Lucy asked carefully.

Smiling warmly at his friends with a hint of sadness, Harry looked at each of them in turn and just wished that he could tell them everything. Wished he could tell them about his life at home with the Dursley’s, at school, the war and the result of all that. Wished he could explain to them about his magic and what his most trusted mentor had done to him and why he had left Britain in the first place. He wished that he could take them with him as he travelled the world in order to find a purpose that fitted outside of The Boy-Who-Lived title and Britain’s Saviour and even the Master of Death.

But then he snapped back to reality.

They lived in totally separate worlds and as much as Harry hated to admit it, he was just playing human here…

There were laws about the association with muggles in America, even firmer than Britain was. America didn’t allow any Wizard to reveal their magic in any kind of way. Telling them would mean that Harry was crazy, and a display would only lead to him getting arrested and them obliviated...

It was a reality check for him, as well as for them.

The reality for him was that he could never life in the muggle world for the rest of his life; he had never belonged in the mundane and normalcy of muggle life. The reality for them was that Harry had little intention of being a visual constant in their lives, forever staying as their uncultured you friend that worked in the local cafe. It was inevitable that he grew up and moved on...

“This was never meant to be more than a pit-stop, in all honesty, guys,” Harry admitted, averting his gaze, suddenly afraid that they’d be angry with him, “My original plan was just to pass through. Stay for a month, maybe, then move on. Maybe head south until I hit Mexico and then Brazil, explore the rainforest.” Harry listed with an almost careless shrug, looking at his friends that looked in equal parts upset and understanding. “Then I met this loud American girl on the plane here, who was just an amazing person and I ended up sticking around.” Harry smiled, so wide and genuine that it melted his friends hearts.

“But?” Dave asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

“But,” Harry relented with a sigh, "I still want to travel. I still want to discover different things that I only saw in the leaflets and the photographs that my extended family brought back with them after a holiday. I need this. I know I do.” his voice was getting softer, more pleading for them to understand as he went on, feeling like his heart was breaking when the guys looked crestfallen and the girls looked heartbroken. He took a timid step forward when Lucy started to cry, silent tears descending down her tanned cheeks - feeling intense relief when she didn’t recoil from him. Gently, like one would handle an injured bird, Harry wiped away the salty tears with his thumb and looked deeply into her dark eyes with his bright green. “I’m so sorry, Lu.” he spoke in an almost whisper, wishing that he could do more to comfort her than what he was currently doing.

Then she punched him in the chest, laughing wetly, “Don’t be sorry, idiot. We’ve always known on some level-“

“-Denial does wonders to the peace of mind.” Daisy tagged on, nodding. Her own eyes were wet, but she wasn’t quite in the same state as her sister, just yet.

“We just didn’t want it to be so soon.” Lucy finished, starting to cry harder, Daisy, now, also sporting tears down her cheeks as she sniffled.

Wordlessly, Harry pulled both girls towards him, with little prompting, and they all embraced in a fierce hug, loose clothes clutched in hands as they started to sway slightly from side to side. A moment later and Harry could feel Thomas and Dave join the hug, Dave cupping the back of his head with a large warm hand and Thomas’s own hand on Harry’s bicep, giving it a comforting squeeze. They stood there for an unknown amount of time, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. Surrounded on all sides by his friends, he felt warm and safe, and he just knew that whenever he came back to America, for any reason, he’d always be welcome to stay with them.

When they all stepped back, Thomas asked the dreaded question, “When are you planning to leave?”

“I was thinking maybe after New Years, middle of January.” Harry slung his arm around Lucy, who was starting to look depressed again. Smiling widely, Harry poked her side lightly, “Don’t worry. I’m not just going to fall off the face of the Earth. Yet.” he chuckled when Daisy punched his shoulder, “You’ll get loads of postcards and I’ll call you all the time. It’ll be like I never left. I’ll come back every Thanksgiving that I can,” he promised with determination, smiling when his friends’ moods seemed to have brightened considerably, “Graduations, Weddings, Children: I’m there. Sound good?” he asked in a light teasing tone.

The twins hummed, putting on simultaneous expressions of mock-thinking when Lucy finally spoke, “It’s a start-“

“But we’ll give you a list of the conditions, later.” Daisy finished, before the girls suddenly flipped their long hair and linked their arms, foot steps in sink as they marched away from the trio of guys.

Thomas was howling with laughter at the display, while Dave chuckled lightly at Harry’s expanse, patting him on the back as the Wizard hung his head, knowing that this was far from the end of it…

“Merlin, why did they have to be twins…” he muttered, sending both boys into another fit of laughter as they all walked on, a few metres behind the still-marching twins.


	4. First Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was an odd affair for Harry to be apart of.

He’d never experienced a celebration that didn’t go wrong for him. At Hogwarts it seemed like every year it was one catastrophe after another. Christmas was an exception most of the time, but it was usually filled with stress from what was occurring throughout year so he never really enjoyed the holiday. Halloween was just not worth mentioning. Ever. It was fair to say that Harry would never be celebrating Halloween ever again. He swore to himself that, every year, he would draw the curtains and lock the door before going to bed early because Halloween was a cursed event that has brought more pain and suffering into his life than sweets and chocolate!

It was obvious to say that Dave, Thomas and the twins were horrified at his stance against Halloween, having all got their costumes and were intending to go out that evening for a haunted house party. But they soon stopped pestering him when they realised how personal his hate apparently was and left it well enough alone. They came back in the early morning after Halloween with face-paint smudged and pounding heads, greeted by the grinning face of Harry Potter as he made breakfast for them and loudly banged about the kitchen.

Getting back to topic, Harry found Thanksgiving a rather odd thing. It felt unnatural to be celebrating something that he had never celebrated before, or even acknowledged back in Britain - completely unaware of its existence.

The day started with Harry being shoved out of bed, far too early for his liking. He’d been relieved of work for the day due to the celebration and he’d been meaning to spend his free time curled up under his large bed-covers and just snooze the day away. That plan had been effortlessly foiled when both Lucy and Daisy marched into his room, Lucy banging a frying pan with a wooden spoon and Daisy shoving him to the floor, one leg still suspended on the mattress.

Groaning in misery, Harry manoeuvred the quilt so that he had an opening to expose one glaring eye towards the evil twins that must somehow be the spawns of Lucifer… “Why?” was all he could ask.

“Morning, sleepy head!” Daisy sang, looking more evil than ever.

“Girls,” he whined, getting back into a comfortable position on the floor so that he could fall back to sleep, “Not now. Harry is sleeping…” he trailed off, relaxing enough to fall into a light doze, completely ignoring the girls despite his screaming instincts of danger.

“I grab the right?” Lucy asked as she put down the spoon and pan.

“Yeah.”

Both twins grinned evilly at one another.

One minutes later, Harry was being dragged out from his room, shirtless and in his sleeping bottoms as he hissed curses in Latin, French and Bulgarian, attempting to latch onto any passing furniture that was nailed down to the floor.

Four minutes later, Harry was in the kitchen, stirring the cheese source as it bubbled away in the pan, glaring grumpily into space as he wished fiercely that Merlin would be merciful and knock out the twins so that he could go back to sleep in peace… Maybe some things were just too much to ask for…

“Isn’t it a little too early to be cooking dinner? I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” Harry grumbled, feeling like the Grinch at Christmas and not even caring.

“Preparation is key for Thanksgiving.” Daisy started off, authoritatively, though the frilly pink apron she wore made her look less intimidating than what she usually was.

“There are so many dishes to prepare.” Lucy tagged on.

“There’s the cranberry sauce.”

“Mash potatoes.”

“Sweet potato and marshmallow bake.”

“Steams carrots.”

“Green bean casserole.”

“Stuffing.”

“Corn pudding.”

“Ambrosia salad.”

“And, of course, the turkey.”

“We’re going to have it fried this year.” Lucy finished with a nod of her head, Daisy doing the same.

The Wizard could only look at the two blankly, looking like he was having trouble processing something as he asked, “Did you just say sweet potato with… marshmallows?”

“Yes.” they both answered, voices ringing with warning bells as they braced their hands on their hips, looking at him with daring eyes.

“Okay.” he simply agreed, knowing when to pick and choose his battles. This was not one he wanted any part in… “And you literally dragged me out of bed because…?” he trailed off, looking at them expectantly, not exactly annoyed at them, but not impressed either.

“You’re a God.” Daisy deadpanned.

“What?” Harry snorted, chortling when her twin rolled her eyes in an exasperated way.

With that, Lucy decided to take the forefront, “Look. For some reason, you're a great cook. And I mean really, _really_ good. If you wanted to, you could be a professional chef. But we’re… How do I put this?”

“We’re shit.”

“Yes… Thank you Dais,” Lucy grumbled as they both turned back to focus on Harry and see what he said.

“Um,” was his ever so intelligent answer. To his horror, his cheeks began to heat up and redden as he threaded his fingers through the back of his hair, absently admiring the length he hadn’t noticed he’d grown it at. Feeling embarrassed about their praise and their growing grins at his obvious reactions, he made a single nod as he sighed with a put-upon attitude. “Fine.”

“Yes!” they cheered, hugging him.

Shrugging off the arms, Harry cleared his throat, “But I’ve gotta say, I have no idea how to do some of those dishes that you were talking about. I never even knew that marshmallows could go in a savoury dish and I have no idea what ‘ambrosia salad’ is.”

“That’s fine,” Lucy waved off.

“We can do those.” Daisy reassured.

“Our mum taught us those.” Lucy concluded with a small fond smile, as she thought back to the memory. Suddenly, she clapped her hands loudly, “Right, lets get started!” she shouted enthusiastically. Harry suddenly felt dread filling his stomach, but ignored it, despite knowing that he’d live to regret that decision…

Four hours later, Lucy had gotten cranberry sauce all over herself, the red smeared into her clothes like blood and mattered in her hair. Having been pressured for time as they cooked, she had to leave the mess and so it had hardened and dried, making it look and feel worse as she tried to pull her fingers through her previously shimmering, dark and silky hair. Daisy was in a similar state of disarray as she had coated herself in gravy soon after Lucy, though in addition to her gravy covered clothes and hair, she had eaten all of the marshmallows while Harry had been otherwise distracted, attempting to clean Lucy up, which lead to the three having to call Dave up and get him to deliver three more bags of the sugary lumps before he deposited himself on the sofa in front of the television, drinking a beer and cheering on a team of heavily padded American football players.

This, of course lead to Dave and Harry’s discussion (i.e., argument) about what should be called ‘football’.

“We kick the ball with our feet! If we touch it with our hands it’s called ‘handball'!"

“That’s _soccer_! _This_ is football!” Dave returned, jabbing his finger at the television.

"That _sport_,” he spat out like venom, “Is the one that should be called ‘soccer’, looks as ridiculous as it sounds!”

The argument had finally been settled by Lucy, having threatened both of them with a red-hot frying pan to shut up, with a crazed look in her brown eyes. The blood-like sauce she had spilled over herself adding to the horror scene she created with very little effort.

Harry had also been doused with his own mess. Having elected to go without a shirt, knowing that with the girls, the clothes he wore would only be set on fire or spoiled (he would have been right in that retrospect) and he had long-since stopped caring about his numerous scars in front of his loud and out-going friends, who seemed to accept the scars and not focus on them. The only scar Harry had a real problem with was the scar on his forehead, but that was due to the misfortune that seemed to follow him around due to the signature mark. And so, it was mainly his hair that had been affected, any splatters of sources or other liquids being wiped off with no harm done. However, that was before the Devil Twins had intervened and Harry had found himself doused in torrents of flour, the fine powder clinging to every inch of his skin and hair, making him look pale in comparison to his bronzed skin that he had acquired in his months in California, his black hair now held a grey tint and his expression was exasperated, lips pinched and eyes deadpanned as he stared at the giggling duo.

Over time, the powder wafted off, but his hair still remained a grey that resembled an old man.

“Don’t ask." was all he said to Thomas when the man arrived in his semi-best attire and was greeted by a shirtless and flour-coverd Harry, his mouth snapping closed as to refrain from asking his questioning.

As they were finishing up with the food, some things going into the fridge to set and other things already in dishes and being covered in hand-towls in order to contain the heat, Harry left the group to shower and get dressed. Reemerging an hour later, Harry was dressed in dark-wash jeans and a green plaid shirt, that the girls had got him due to the fact that it ‘matched his eyes’, untucked and glasses freshly cleaned and polished from the dirt of the kitchen.

With a sigh of exhaustion and relief, Harry ungracefully flopped down in the space next to Thomas on the sofa and leaned his head back as he groaned pitifully and loudly, the noise extending on for more than was normal, until Lucy leaned over and poked a sharp finger into his side, “It wasn’t that bad.” she groused. However, at the raise of one eyebrow, she crossed her arms and pouted, “Fine.”

With a pained moan for his still-aching limbs, Harry sat himself back up correctly, rubbing a hand through his damp hair, “Why do you do this to yourself _every year_?"

The Americans of the room just snorted and shook their heads in amusement, not saying anything. All their attention soon turned back to the game; even Harry was watching it, though he was still clueless and ignorant to the rules of it.

“Hey, Har,” Daisy hedged, earning an inquisitive hum from Harry in turn, “I didn’t know you had a tattoo. Does it mean anything?”

Lazy eyes drifted to her, cracking a smile, “Why? You thinking about getting one?” at the roll of her eyes, he sat up straighter, a more serious note to his voice, “I guess you could say that it’s a symbol for Death and mortality, as well as immortality.” At their confused glances, he smiled and carried on, “My old school was odd in practically every way. There were classes that wouldn’t normally be taught in schools and classes taught in normal schools were up to self-study if the student insisted. There was a huge library and one of the books was a fairy tale novel, though it held no stories that I was familiar with. One of the stories was called ‘The Three Brothers’ and it tells of three mortals that had escaped Death and their timely fate by using sources that one would usually not,” Harry smiled sightly when he saw that the others seemed enraptured by his words, interest and curiosity taking hold as they hung onto his words, “Death had been angry, and feeling cheated, he devised a plan. He pretended to congratulate the Brothers, telling them that they could each ask for one thing of him. The eldest asked for a sword that would always best other swords no matter the other’s skill. The second asked for a power to recall loved ones from the grave, enabling him to call upon spirits at will. The youngest was smart - he knew that evading Death was not without consequence - and so asked for a cloak that would hide him from Death. The eldest was arrogant and prideful and so, wanting to test out his sword, he duelled a rival of his, in a distant village, defeating him with little effort. Later that night, the Eldest gloated about his sword, drunk with power, and bragged of his invincibility. However, as he slept that night, another snuck into his room and stole the sword, slitting the brother’s throat for good measure. And so Death took the first. The Second soon followed as he conjured his love with the stone. But she was nothing but a shade, a fragment of herself from the beyond and she was miserable to be back in the plane of the living where she did not belong. Depressed and wanting to join her, he hung himself and so Death claimed the second…” he trailed off, smirking when the others watched him with growing expectancy and eagerness.

“What about the third then, come on.” Dave prodded his knee, looking childish in his want for the end of the story. “Does he end up living forever?”

“No,” Harry answered, a look of endearment on his face as he looked at the group before him, “Though he used the cloak for many years, hiding from Death and foul people alike, obtaining a wife and children of his own, living a life that was full and happy. When he was a withered old man, he handed the cloak to his youngest son, revealing himself to Death, who he greeted like a friend and passed on.” he concluded.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Thomas started, a thoughtful frown to his face, “So the first two died due to arrogance and such, but the third one was smart, shouldn’t he have lived forever because of that?”

“Death is inevitable,” Harry stated, somewhat firmly, though caught himself before he could start ranting about it to the others, as if the story he’d just told was real and not a fairy tale. “Death is apart of human life and it’s not something that we can reject outright. No one can escape Death. Whether it’s through murder, suicide or old age, we all come to the same conclusion. The difference between the Brothers is that the two eldest died at a young age, the eldest thought only of the present in his battling, the second thought only of the past, the youngest died of old age as he thought of the future. Life is what you make it.”

There was a small silence between the group as the Americans proceed the morals of the sombre story that was no where near as light and airy that most ‘fairy tales’ usually were. “You still didn’t answer my question,” Daisy started with a frown, pointing at the tattoo vaguely, “What does it mean?"

Harry then rolled up the sleeve, lifting his arm up as to expose it better to the group, tracing each of the symbols in turn, “The triangle is the cloak, the circle is the stone and the line is the sword. Together, they are called the Deathly Hallows and in the story, if the objects of Death are gathered by one person at one time, they would become the Master of Death, immortal but to accomplish that, you must greet Death as your friend, much like the Last Brother did.”

“That makes no sense!” Lucy accused, gesturing her hands wildly, “In order to become immortal you have to die? If anything, the whole thing is just a trick of Death. The only reason why someone would look for the items is if they wanted to be immortal and reject Death and so because they don’t want to die, they are not Death’s friend and so they just die anyway.”

“Exactly,” Harry nodded, “A double edged sword. It’s an impossible task and one only for mad-men,” he nodded grimly and then smirked, “But then again, it’s only a story.”

“But still!” was Lucy’s exclamation, seemingly done with the Brother’s idiocy as well as other’s that might seek the objects, despite the fact that Harry had portrayed the objects and the task as completely fictional.

Laughing at his friend’s antics, Harry unrolled his sleeve and set it down again, leaning comfortably against Thomas, who had readily gone back to the television upon the story’s end, not bothering to look for a deeper meaning, unlike Dave and the twins.

“Why the hell did you get it?” Daisy asked, a hint of amusement in her voice at the prospect of Harry getting a tattoo for immortality because it was a favourite story of his.

This was where Harry decided to lie, mentally apologising for the dampener he was about to put on the evening, “Well, my parents died when I was young. Same with their friends and my Godfather. I never really had anything of my parents; no pictures or mementoes or anything they might have left behind, well not until I was older. When I went to my school, I was able to discover my parents. The teachers that had taught them before spoke of my dad and his mischief, gave me a map that he and his friends had made of the huge school so that they could sneak around easier. I took after him a lot. In hair, glasses, stature, looks. But the only thing I really learnt about my mum was that I had her eyes. Her name was Lily, but it’s way too girly to get a flower so I got this tattoo when I remembered the story. It was like a reminder that although things couldn’t change, I could still make something of my life and meet them when I finally go. It’s also a very good philosophy on life to have.” he smiled, liking the that thought better than ‘Death named me his Master after I accidentally collected the Hollows and he burnt it into my arm as to name me so’. Yeah… That would go down like a lead balloon and get him a trip in the fastest car to the mental hospital…

Like the softie he really was, Dave reached over Thomas and clasped Harry on the shoulder, his hand practically engulfing his slim shoulder.

There was a small silence between them, before Thomas broke it like a damn pro, “Dude, your tattoo sucks.”

A burst of laugher seemed to explode from Harry, in equal parts surprised and pleased with his friend’s reaction and silently thanking Thomas’s ability to conveniently dismiss awkward tensions and situations. The others laughed as well, rolling their eyes at their friend’s antics, but loving him all the more for them anyway.

Soon, they were all sat around the dinner table, Daisy and Lucy on either end of the rectangular table, Dave and Thomas on the right side and Harry on the left, happy to have more room to eat than rubbing elbows. The spread on the table left little room for the plates, and the oddity of the dishes and the colour that they possessed reminded Harry of his first meal at Hogwarts, mouth open in wonder at the sheer massiveness and the plentifulness that was suddenly right under his nose, and he could eat it all. Though, Harry was quite happy to say that he wasn’t going to throw up for eating too much this time, his stomach having expanded to a normal size since his time away from the Dursley household…

“So what?” Harry started, unsure of himself but still smiling among the good company of his friends, “We give a toast and then eat?” He was totally out of his area with this. The dinner kind of reminded him of a special dinner at some sort of social event, though with considerably less people and there was no champagne or fancy bow-tie suits.

Making a face, Daisy moved her hand in a gesture that suggested that he was wrong, as well as right.

“Usually,” Thomas started factually, “Everyone would go around the table and say what they’re thankful for, one by one. Doesn’t really matter how grand or small it is. Really, it just depends on the family. Some families prepare entire speeches, while others will just say a word or two about the year or the cooking.” he shrugged, before he looked at Daisy and Lucy, eyebrows raised expectantly, “You guys first?"

The twins nodded before they looked at one another, silently debating, before Daisy stood up her drink in hand, as she smiled down at her friends. Then she started her speech.

“I am thankful for marshmallows,” she declared, completely serious, as she stared at the occupants of the table that gave a snort of laughter, “I'm thankful for their invention, their fluffiness and their sugar! None can beat the awesomeness that is the squishy goodness, that was personally crafted by God as the angels sang its praise, given unto us by His Holiness to use extensively on this Great Day, which is Thanksgiving Day!” she roared at the end like a blood-thirsty warrior charging into battle, thrusting her bottle of beer up into the air like it was a sword. Suddenly, she transformed back into the dainty little girl that was wearing a pink blouse and pale cream skirt that reached her knees, smiling innocently as she asked, “Next?”

All eyes looked to Harry as he cleared his throat and hesitantly grabbed his glass filled with coke and stood up, a small smile touching his lips, “Thanks, Dais, that was a great speech about… marshmallows… Anyway,” he cleared his throat again, “I am thankful for online flight bookings. Without that, I wouldn’t have gotten the plane that I did, or the seat number that has been given to me. I wouldn’t have met the loud American girl that sat next to me and I wouldn’t have met any of you. So, thank you, Easy Jet Airline.” he raised his glass and drank, smirking in amusement as the others snickered into their hands and Lucy rolled her eyes fondly at the speech, giving into her amusement when Harry gave her a cheeky wink.

Mock-drunkenly, Thomas stands to his feet, glass in hand, the wine threatening to spill over the food and table, causing the girls to hiss at him like feral animals and for the guys to laugh at his antics. His chair legs strapped terribly loud against the wooden floor panels, the screeching making Harry wince, feeling sorry for the inanimate objects that were treated so harshly.

“I’m doing an impression of my Uncle Roary around this time of year,” he quickly inputs before turning back into a ‘raging drunk’, “I,” he declares passionately, nearly spilling his drink over himself as he gestures dramatically to himself, “Am thankful for… Boobies! All that women have to offer in the _world_! A true marvel of woman-kind! Perfectly round and… squishy!” he cackled madly.

“Alright!” Lucy interrupted, trying to sound irritated, but the image was ruined as she attempted to hide her wide smile by covering it up with her hand.

“And they come in all kinds of sizes!”

“Tom!”

“Small ones-"

“Honestly-"

“Big ones-"

“Someone else please just go…”

“And all the sizes in-between!” he cackled joyously at the sight of Lucy’s defeated form at the head of the table.

Taking pity on his friend, Harry intervened, “Alright! Alright!” he laughed, “Thank you, Thomas, for that… wonderful contribution to our dinner and some very much unwanted insight into your now-obvious sexual drive…” he applauded Thomas with every one else as the man gave a dramatic, sweeping bow and ungracefully sat down. However, the drink finally gave in and sloshed over the side, hitting him in the face, making the others roar in laughter as he spluttered, a ‘serves you right!’ being declared from Lucy’s side of the table.

“Dave…” Harry spoke up once again, still chuckling.

Standing up, the giant of a blonde smiled down at his gathered friends as he casually lifted his glass in a salute to them, the warmness in his baby blue eyes reminded Harry of Hagrid in so many ways. “I would like to dedicate this toast to say that I am thankful for University and education. Without education, not only would we all be dumber for it, we also would never have met. I can honestly say that if I hadn’t met any of you, life would be a lot duller. Thank you.” he raised his glass again, the others doing the same, all of them feeling simultaneously warm at the nice little speech that praised them.

A clearing of her throat got Lucy the attention that she needed as she stood up as well, looking equally nervous and confident. “My speech is kind of the same as Harry’s. I just wanted to thank you for being on that plane and in that seat. Everything that’s happened, that’s brought us closer together, through arguments and good times, has been all because of you. You’re an amazing guy Harry. Completely extraordinary. With everything you’ve been through, from what we’ve figured out and what you’ve told us, it’s hard to overcome that… But you’ve done that, and you’re still a goddamn legend in our eyes. It’s been a pleasure to know you Harry and I look forward to knowing you for the rest of my life, as my companion, friend and brother.” she finished and Harry couldn’t stop the tears pooling in his eyes as he smiled, never before feeling as loved as he did right at that moment. “To you Harry.” she raised her glass and the others did the same, feeling the same as she did, all smiling at Harry.

Laughing wetly, Harry shook his head as he stood up from his chair and lunged around the table, scooping the girl up in a desperate hug, full of love and meaning. He could feel his shredded heart healing bit by bit and it truly felt amazing. Suddenly, the pair were enveloped in other arms squeezing the life out of them, Daisy, Dave and Thomas obviously wanting to get in on the action.

By the time they sat down again, eyes were dry, smiles were still wide and the food was dropping to dangerous temperatures as it reached room-temperature. Chiming the glass with her spoon, gently, Daisy and Lucy finally declared, “Right, lets eat!” And they all dug in.

* * *

By late morning, the celebrations were over, Thomas and Dave slept over on the couch, cuddled up with one another in their drunken coma that Harry couldn’t help but smirk at - serves them right for digging into his butter-beer storage that he usually kept hidden in his room. The twins and Harry made sure to take loads of pictures of the cuddling pair, Harry even going as far as getting out a black marker pen and drawing on their faces, Daisy and Lucy cheering him on quietly all the way. In the end, Thomas ended up with circular glasses drawn on his face as well as a triangle beard on his chin and a few dashes on his upper lip to imitate a moustache. Dave was gifted with eyes drawn on his eyelids and ‘poo’ written in capital letters on his forehead with the middle of his eyebrows coloured in so it looked like he had a monobrow with a crude flower drawn on his cheek. More pictures were taken.

Clearing away the table was fast and effective between the three friends and soon, Daisy was kissing him on the cheek as a goodnight and closed the door to her room, her fatigue visible in the tired curve of her spine, leaving just Harry and Lucy in the kitchen.

Comfortable silence passed between the two as they carefully dried and put away the dishes that they’d used, dancing around one another smoothly, exchanging plates and cutlery without even looking at one another, completely in sync. The silence only lasted for a few moments longer before Lucy spoke, “The speech I gave at dinner… I meant every word. You know that, right?” she asked, voice low and gentle and as Harry turned to look at her, he could see the vulnerability in her eyes as she looked at him, pouring her emotions into that one look alone. It wasn’t a look of want like one would give someone that they secretly loved, but it was one of friendship, or family - a sister to a brother - and completely platonic.

Without words, Harry stepped up to his friend and hugged her softly and firmly, smiling when he felt her small and delicate arms circle around him with no hesitation at all.

“Yeah, I know.” he smiled into her hair, blinking hard to force back the tears that threatened to spill over. Giving her one last squeeze, they separated and smiled adoringly at one another.

“Get to bed, RG.”

“_Yes, mum_.”


	5. Firsts

“I shouldn’t be here.” Harry practically hissed at the stupid wanker beside him that was just ginning. _He’ll give him something to grin about in a minute…_

“You’ll be fine,” Thomas simply waved it off, as if he hadn’t just dragged Harry to the seats at the back of the classroom of his university, “You’ve read all of my books so this shouldn’t be lost on you.”

“Thomas, please, I need to leave,” Harry whispered harshly to his taller friend as he dragged him around the wide corridors of his university by the wrist. It felt like Harry was being lead around by a large dog that was just too strong. “I have work.” he finally hissed.

A snort emitted from the lanky young man as he continued on his way, not even faulting, as he stepped into a large class room with the seats stationed in the way that reminded Harry of an old photo in his muggle history books, an ancient Greek entertainments stage or something… “No you don’t. Your shift starts in the afternoon with me. I checked,” he smiled toothily, sitting them down at the back, “You’ll be fine. It’s just some history, which you should be fine in as you stole my five-hundred and sixty-two page text book, read it from cover to cover and then said it was ‘enjoyable’. You know there’s a reason why the twins call you ‘Rebel Geek’, dude.” he chuckled.

“But Thomas-"

“Oh look, the teacher’s here!” he squealed quietly to Harry, immediately making the teen clam up and sink into his seat, hunching his shoulders as he attempted to be one with the plastic chair.

“Good morning, class.” the female teacher greeted with too much cheer that had Harry shuddering in agitation. He didn’t know why, but there was just a certain look about her that reminded Harry of Umbridge... Thankfully, there was no pink clothing in sight as the teacher, with bob-cut blonde hair, wore a professional purple button up and black pencil skirt, but the look in her eyes was unmistakable. It was filled with self-righteousness and a subtle sneer on her features that had Harry deducing that she thought herself above them - she being older and, by default, smarter than those of her untaught students.

“Morning.” a few grumbled back and Harry didn’t know if they shared a mutual distaste for the teacher or if it was just too early for them to be fully awake yet. Harry voted the latter.

“Hey, Helen,” Thomas suddenly called, drawing all eyes towards him, making Harry sink further into his seat. The elder boy then pointed to Harry, mirth in his eyes as he cheerfully introduced him to everyone, “This is Hadrian, my friend, he’s just gonna sit in for the lesson, get a taste of university before thinking about applying.” he lied with a large grin, one that Harry so desperately wanted to hex off.

The woman’s steely eyes pinned Harry in his seat, a look of contempt flashing across her face before she covered it with a smile. “Well, Hadrian, this is History 101, and my name is Doctor Helen Summons. Are you interested in History?”

Sitting up straighter in his seat, Harry nodded and gave a hesitant, but polite smile, “Its Harry,” he gave a side-glare at his friend, before he focused forward again, "I have a mild interest in all subjects, but I like history enough to be thinking about applying taking it in higher studies.”

The woman blinked at his accent, before taking it in stride, smiling with a hint of interest, “Where’re you from?"

“I live near London, but I’ve studied in a boarding school in Scotland for the last six years or so. I’m just travelling about for a bit before getting back to the books.” Harry lied, hoping to end the discussion about him and just get on with the lesson.

The teacher nodded her head in an annoying manner, “I’d be happy to give an example lesson for just this period. Thomas, give him a pen and paper please and we’ll get started with the class.”

After that, she didn’t pay any kind of attention to him, eyes flickering about the room when she asked a question or just in general, stepping towards the white-board and writing a few things down. She was a much better teacher than Umbridge but Harry still couldn’t shake his dislike of her and so he just kept silent in the class, writing notes accordingly even though he knew it all from Thomas’ text books. Helen seemed to be a good teacher, but Harry found that her attitude towards the students in general had them all glaring at her with hate when she turned her back to write something down. She especially liked to pick on people, lips twitching into a small, discreet smile when she told them that they were wrong, the students easily catching her smile and glaring as she told them that they should have known this in a disappointed and condescending tone. It rubbed Harry the wrong way and as she explained a paragraph in Latin on the board, the wizard leaned over to consult his friend.

“She’s kind of a bitch.” he whispered lowly.

“I know.” Thomas whispered back, smile tugging at his lips.

“Then why the hell did you bring me here?”

“Dave usually takes this class with me, but he called in sick today,” the lanky student explained, leaning down to bring his voice closer to Harry’s ear, “There's _no way_, in Heaven, Hell, or Earth, that I am taking this class on my own. If _I’m_ going down, _you’re_ coming down with me,” he stated fiercely, before shrinking back at Harry’s murderous glare and rushed “You’re my best friend, love you, love you, please don’t kill me!”

Rolling his eyes at his overdramatic friend, not realising how truly scary his glare was to other people, and huffed a breath, deflating into his chair and crossing his arms as he turned back to the front of the class, rolling his eyes again when the teacher translated the Latin text wrong. He could deal with another half hour or so of this and then get some lunch before heading into work with Thomas. At least she wasn’t like Professor Binns or Professor Trelawney… God, that was a truly terrible teacher…

“Knew you were a softy.” Thomas muttered and Harry quickly turned and punched him in the arm, making him jump and wince, “OW!” rubbing his arm with a pout on his lips, “Damn, you’re stronger than you look.” he groaned rubbing his arm more furiously than before.

“Hem, hem!”

Immediately, Harry’s head snapped to the front of the class upon hearing that annoying sound, face draining of colour and eyes wide and frantic. It took him a moment to realise that there was no flash of pink and relaxed back into his chair with a heavy breath, heart still beating frantically from the stupid sound. Unconsciously, Harry’s hand rubbed over the scarred words on his hand, mind briefly cast back to the past, an echo of old fear and panic flooding his system and nerves alight in agitation as he heard the distant echo of McGonagall’s unhelpful advice fell on his ears, _‘keep your head down’_, the old feeling of helplessness and betrayal squeezing his heart.

Shaking his head, Harry forced the feelings and emotions out of his mind as he focused back to the present, only to find that every pair of eyes in the room were trained on him. Glancing beside him had Harry confirming Thomas’ attention also on his person, brows furrowed in a mix of worry and curiousness.

“Hadrian?” the teacher asked, voice slow and expectant like she was taking to a dumb child.

“Harry,” he automatically corrected, finally coming to himself and forcing his eyes to focus on her, “Sorry, what was the question?”

“I asked what you and Thomas were taking about. It must have been more interesting than my lesson so why don’t you tell the class.” she smirked and Harry grit his teeth, willing himself not to spit a curse at her to see if she was really Umbridge or not.

“I was just telling Thomas that the translation for the Latin script was wrong, but he disagreed because you presented it as such.” Harry lied, though not really. Her translation was way off for the script and he’d been thinking so before he spoke to Thomas. If anything it was a white lie.

“Excuse me?” the teacher asked, a warning tone in her voice as she glared at the incompetent child before her.

All too used to defying authority figures quite openly, Harry lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes into a hard glare, “I studied Latin in my old school, they had old customs and made it a main priority for us to learn the language.” Harry explained, though that was a bit of a lie as well. Hogwarts didn’t encourage a Latin class but the Wizards and Witches, as a community, did use it for their spell-work. Also there was the fact that Hermione had dragged him down to the library everyday until he had a rough understanding of it and then Harry carried on with his self-studying during lonely holidays to avoid boredom and had become perfectly fluent in his Latin - much to Hermione’s pleasure. In the Wizarding world, it was quite a useful skill to have and families such as the Longbottoms had Latin as their first language.

“Well,” Helen drawled, clearly not believing him at all, “Give it a go then.” she gestured and Harry immediately focused on the board that held a copy of the Latin script and the english translation, completely ignoring the sarcasm that was directed at him by the teacher - Snape was way worse.

“Well, you’re under the impression that this was written by a knight or nobel of some sort, but it was actually written by a servant that could write - a surprising trait at that time - and it… looks like…” Harry trailed off as he quickly read the rest of it, smiling as he continued to do so, “She’s talking about a guy that she likes, and complaining about her Master that doesn’t seem capable of dressing himself. It’s a diary that she’s hidden away and written in when the light was weakest. It’s actually very amusing.” Harry chuckled warmly, smiling as he read on, disappointed when the script ran out - the girl was quite witty with a good sense of humour.

However, his good humour was interrupted by a sharp voice from front, shrill and annoying, “Completely absurd! That’s completely wrong!”

In retaliation, Harry scowled down at the woman and watched her shift uncomfortably under his gaze, his voice equally as chilling as his stare, “And why would my translation be absurd and not yours. Yours can’t be further from correct from what I can read. Did you spot a few words and then make up the rest base on the the era that you’ve guessed this was from?"

At this question, the teacher was practically red in the face and one look around the class room showed that the students were quietly snickering at their teacher's failure, causing the teacher to go even more red in the face. “How dare you come into my classroom and accuse me of lying! This is my life’s work here! And as an experienced historian, I shouldn’t have to deal with a spoilt brat that’s too arrogant to know anything of importance!”

“So, because I’m younger and less experienced, I’m therefore stupid and wrong? My age and intelligence are in positive correspondence to one another? Is that it?” Harry asked in a calm voice that made the people around him shift uncomfortably by how dangerous the young teen’s voice sounded. Most stared at him with admiration and open-mothed awe, wondering how someone so young could make the adult seem so childish in an argument while he seemed like a sophisticated and mature adult.

“Yes!” she exploded and then cut herself off before she said anything more damning.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the response, wondering if the woman truly was related to the Wicked Witch of the Pink. “In that case, I think that teaching isn’t a well thought career choice for you.” he advised politely, knowing that this would set her off more.

“I have never been so disrespected in my entire life!!” she screamed, pointing an accusing finger at the dark haired boy that she truly hated at that moment, “I’ve never been more disgusted by someone’s attitude and if you expect to get through life like that, then you are severely mistaken! This attitude is what probably got you full payment for travelling! Your parents must feel so ashamed!”

At this, Harry thrust himself to his feet, eyes ablaze with fury and hate as he finally raised his voice to shout back, “I’m an orphan you daft twit! And just because you can’t take constructive criticism doesn’t have anything to do with my attitude, that’s _your_ problem! I’m out of here.” he stated as he made his way down the stair isle and went to march past the stunned teacher and students. Before he was completely out the door, the whole class could hear Harry’s departing words of, “Get fucked Helen!” that echoed down the hallways.

There was a moment of shocked silence within the class before Thomas tentatively got up and started to move down the isle, intent to catch up and comfort his upset friend.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Peck?” the teacher questioned sternly, obviously having recovered from Harry’s verbal offences.

Lamely, Thomas pointed in the direction in which Harry had left, “Well, I was thinking that maybe I was going to go comfort my seventeen year old friend after you told him that his murdered parents would have sent him away in order to get rid of him.” he stated, silently delighting in the teacher’s flush of guilt and embarrassment, effectively cowed into silence as Thomas left the classroom, bag in hand and jogged down the corridors to catch up with Harry and hang out before work started.

It was safe to say that Harry was banned from entering the university campus after that little episode. Harry didn’t particularly care, he had no real intention in going to a muggle school anyways. When asked about it by the twins about if he was concerned about being kicked out, Harry shrugged and said that his next aim was to get kicked out of the country next. That rewarded him with a smack to the back of the head from Daisy…

* * *

“Wow.”

“Jesus, RG! You look hot!”

“Thanks, Lucy…”

“No, H, seriously. Wow.”

“Dave. Stop flirting with him. You’re giving the surrounding girls the wrong message.”

“Shut up, Tom…”

“My face feels weird.”

“Yeah. That’s ‘cause you don’t need glasses any more."

“I feel like I’m changing a lot to suit your ideals and needs…”

“… It’s for your own good, my young padawan.”

“Star Trek?”

“No!”

Self consciously, Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling like the important facial feature was missing with how different it felt without his glasses. The waiting list for the laser-eye surgery was actually months long and it was quite expensive but Thomas managed to pull a few strings and got his appointment moved up - money just wasn’t an issue for Harry. His muggle friends said that his eyes stood out more which was one of his better qualities among many, according to the twins.

“Maybe I should still wear them but normal glasses instead of lenses?” he asked, trying to desperately suppress his blush that was now permanently stained on his cheeks and ears.

This got the whole group shaking their heads as Daisy picked up his hand and rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles soothingly. She looked at him with earnest eyes, “You look great, Harry, every girl and guy in your vicinity is about ready to jump your bones. Your hair’s even grown to a great length where it looks like your just owning the messy look. You look absolutely edible.” she purred before licking her lips mockingly and leaning into Harry’s space. Close to spontaneously combusting, Harry looked at the guys, eyes large and pleading for help - something that proved to be effective when they both blushed and then pulled the ballsy twin out of his bubble.

“Seriously though, Harry.” Dave smiled brightly down at his young friend, “You look great.”

Smiling warmly at the (possible) giant Harry felt his cheeks simmer down the tiniest bit as he nodded in gratitude, “Thanks.”

Later on, in his room, his friends mucking about in the kitchen, Harry stood there and stared at himself in his bedroom mirror, eyes scanning himself for any faults. He looked at himself with his glasses hovering in front of his face, squinting through the blurry lenses that used to reveal a clear picture, attempting to see the difference. He huffed and threw them on his bed when they proved to be inefficient. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he looked better with or without, having been with his glasses for years. Looking down at the old specs, Harry remembered vividly when he first met Hermione on the train to Hogwarts, her wand pointed confidently at his nose as she magically fixed them. Nervously, Harry glanced at himself as a whole. He looked marginally better than what he looked like when he first came to the USA. For one, he didn’t look as thin as he used to, having recovered from his time as a runaway during the war, his hair was still jet black but it looked silky with some extra care from the twins and had grown a little longer with a slight shaggy quality that suited him quite well, and his skin no longer had a sickly, pale pigment that usually came with the dreary weather of England, having adopted a bronzed and nicely tanned quality. Without his glasses, his eyes were a more startling feature, something that most eyes would be immediately drawn to when they met him - something that usually happened to people with unusually bright green eyes. His eyes were only more startling with the added effect of his dark hair, curling messily around his temples and framing his face and eyes, completely covering the lightening bolt scar - much to Harry’s delight.

Loud banging on the door had Harry jumping about a foot in the air, hand instantly going to the wand which was invisible in his arm holster. Thankfully, he didn’t draw as Daisy and Lucy barged in without so much as a ‘how do you do’, making a b-line to his wardrobe and pulling out an assortment of clothing items, both agreeing and disagreeing to different things, even one of them talking about make-up or something…

“What are you doing?” he asked stepping up to them with the full intent on kicking them out of his room. But he paused when he saw them simultaneously smile, large, toothy and completely wicked, fully directed at the young teenager, making the Master of Death take a step back. Hours later, he would curse himself for stupidly asking that question…

The next conscious thought in Harry’s head was_ ‘why did it have to be twins…’_.

At this moment in time, Harry was being dragged - practically carried - down the darkening streets of LA - scratch that, he wasn’t _‘practically carried’_ he _was_ carried. Dave and Thomas had his upper body, supporting most of his wight (though they joked that he barely weighed more than a feather), while the twins had a leg each. After he’d stopped his meagre struggling, they’d set him down, herding him deeper into the night until they were on the other side of their university campus, around the boarder of it. It wasn’t hard to see why he was there. The flashing lights, crowds of dancing people and thrumming music was a dead give away…

“A party?” He asked incredulously.

“C’mon!” Daisy squealed, obviously excited, “It’ll be fun! Your first college party!” she cheered and Harry briefly wondered if she was drunk already.

This would definitely explain his forced attire. He was wearing skinny jeans, ones that were tight and clung to every dip and curve of his ass and legs, making them seem impossibly longer, with the knees bare due to the ‘ripped’ material around them - a popular fashion for teenagers and young adults apparently. His shoes were white nikes with black laces, the skinny jeans slightly tucked into them as they were too tight to go over them. His shirt was a simple dark tank top that was comfortable but tight around his waist and chest much to his displeasure - his tastes more inclined to baggy clothes than form-fitting - leaving his arms bare to the cooling temperatures of night though it wasn’t as cold as Harry was used to. Surprisingly, his bare arms were painted in ‘UV neon paint’ according to Daisy, eagerly getting out her paintbrushes, putting her artist skills to use. She painted his arms in swirling colours, using a mix of green and red to do so; on the left arm was a distinct painting of a green dragon, mouth open on his shoulder with red flames curling over his neck and cheek artistically and beautifully. Nonetheless, Harry fought to not be forced out of his room and from his appealingly warm bed which was why he was carried from his apartment.

Upon entrance, Harry was speechless. The music was loud and thrumming through his entire body as they all stepped into the large house (a ‘frat house’ according to the others) the whole place was open and looked really cool. There were people all over the place: dancing at the front, in the living room, and couples holding hands and giggles drunkly as they staggered up the stairs. The place was dark with flashing, thin lights tangling with one another, the purple light of the place making the neon paint on his arms and face glow, his shoes doing the same, the lights having the same effects on his friends as they looked around and grinned.

“What now?” he shouted, voice barely heard over the music even when he screamed in his friends ears.

Lucy grinned at him before taking his hand and dragging him over to the side of the living room where there was a long table. Half was covered by plates and bowls of finger food for the hungry and the other half was packed with bottles, upon bottles of alcohol, large kegs on the ground beside them. Without a word, both knowing they wouldn’t hear the other, Lucy grabbed a bottle and snatched up a red, plastic cup, pouring the liquid in to about half way before filling the rest with diet coke, thrusting the concoction into Harry’s chest with raised eyebrows. With only a small glare, Harry chugged back the drink, hating the bitter taste as it went down. Handing the cup back to an impressed Lucy, she filled it again and he took it, raising it in thanks before walking off to find somewhere nice to linger for a while and get used to the overwhelming atmosphere.

Hours and countless drinks later, Harry was in the middle of the dance floor, jumping in beat to the music and singing along loudly - completely unheard by everyone there. He had a slight buzz going - okay, so maybe that was a bit of a lie. But he wasn’t _that_ drunk! He was a Wizard! Wizards could hold their potions! He downed his cup again, finding that he didn’t really mind the bitter taste of the cheap alcohol any longer. Without a stumble, Harry slipped up to the drinks table and poured a cup of something random, coupling it with a quarter of lemonade and grinning happily at the fact that it would be very strong.

Suddenly, Harry felt a hand around his waist, quickly snaking around him. Before he knew what was happening, Harry had been dragged from the main party in the living room and into the corridor that connected the kitchen and living room together. Then he was pushed up against the wall by a solid mass. Looking up, Harry caught sight of a man, around nineteen or so, hair long to the point of brushing his shoulders and styled in cool dreadlocks, his chest was bare and Harry could see that the young man was African American before gentle hands stroked around his jaw and tilted his face up. Before Harry could even think about what was going on, a warm pair of lips were crashed against his own, the stench of alcohol strong between them. Almost immediately, Harry melted into the kiss, hands drunkenly fumbling as they travelled over the man’s smooth and hairless chest, resting on his shoulders and forcefully pulling him closer. When they finally came up for air, Harry was smiling widely and brightly up at the taller man, before he dived into Harry’s neck, kissing and sucking with a hint of teeth down to his shoulder and up again to his jaw, making Harry gasp and groan in want.

However, before anything could go further, the guy leaned away, giving Harry a parting kiss before continuing to stumble out to the kitchen and through the back doors, immediately turning away to fall to his knees and throw up into a plant pot. Still dazed from the kiss, Harry had a small suspicion that the kiss and his temporary partner throwing up might not be a coincidence, but easily dismissed this to go back to the living room and dance again, the event temporarily forgotten - he didn’t even notice Dave and Lucy having caught sight of the little adventure and were left staring open-mouthed and then laughing as their incredibly drunk friend seemed to shrug off the incident and stumble back into the party.

On the dance floor, Harry continued to dance, the unexpected incident completely forgotten.

* * *

“Rise and shine!” Daisy and Lucy sung loudly as they opened the curtains of his window.

Immediately, Harry hissed at them like an angry cat before crawling deeper under the covers and borrowing his head deeper into his pillow in hopes of smothering himself to death. He felt like Death himself and he’s _met_ Death, he’s the _Master of Death_! His head was throbbing painfully and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He was in desperate need of water, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to move anywhere but deeper into his mattress.

“Harry?” he heard one of them enquire, he didn’t know which one, “You dead?”

“… If I said yes would you leave the corpse alone?” Harry groaned, wincing at the pounding of his head at every word spoken out loud…

“No,” the other said (or maybe it was the same one? He didn’t know…).

“Then, I’m alive. Barely,” he grouched, “Please leave.” he whimpered. God, he could almost compare this to the crucio curse… “Why did I drink so much?” he whined as he rolled over and toppled off the bed, duvet and all, but stayed on the floor, not wanting to move. Then he frowned, trying to think passed the thumping. “What did I do last night?” he asked, completely drawing a blank. “Last I remember is that Lucy kept giving me drinks and Dave carried me to the middle of the dance floor…”

“So you don’t remember?” Lucy asked in mock innocence, which had Harry frowning deeply.

Slowly and reluctantly, Harry peeled away a layer of covers to glare up at the two smirking twins that he just couldn’t tell apart while his brain was screaming, “No… What did I do?”

“Well,” Daisy hedged, smirk in place.

“You got really drunk and was dancing and everything,” Lucy grinned.

“But then Diarny O’Marra dragged you away for some pucker lips time,” Daisy laughed as Harry sat bolt-upright, eyes wide and alarmed, “He left a few marks on you, I see.” she pointed at his neck, his hand flying up to cover whatever it was. Then he froze when her words dawned on him.

“He?!”


	6. To the bank!

Harry started his free weekend lying on the sofa in the living room, looking over a wide map of south USA and scanned the roads to see which way he wanted to go. It was a very hard thing to decide. Harry knew that he wanted to drive there, get the feel of the open roads, but he didn’t have a car or a license - which he apparently needed in order to drive legally on the road.

“No!” he heard Lucy whine behind him before the map was snatched out of his hands and glared at by an irritated American, “Really? You’re planning it now?”

“I’m not going to be leaving for another month,” he snatched the map back, soothing it down once again, “But I need to plan ahead. Or at least plan my journey to the next place I want to be.” he shrugged and then continued to scan the roads.

Moaning loudly, she flopped down on the sofa, paying no mind to Harry’s grunt as she landed heavily on top of him, “I didn’t even know you could drive.”

“Well…” he hedged, a light blush coming to his cheeks, “I know how to drive, just not on the road.” he admitted lamely, remembering his summer with the Weasleys where he and Ron were taught to drive a muggle car by Arthur for ‘just in case’ emergencies (there was also the time that Ron had driven them both to school in said car, before crashing it into the Whomping Willow, thus nearly getting them both killed and expelled, but Harry decided not to count that experience). Harry was a good driver, if he had any say about it, and he knew how to control his car and look for others and all that, but he wasn’t trained to be on the road.

He stopped in his musings of his past teachings to pay attention to Lucy, who was looking down at him with an odd expression which he could only cock his head at. Then she snorted and rolled her eyes, completely exasperated with herself, like she knew that she shouldn’t be surprised, but still was. “And you wonder why were call you ‘Rebel Geek’. If you’d gone to high school with us, I’m not sure if you’d get bullied or inadvertently create a fangirl base…”

Chuckling, Harry shook his head, eyes turning back to his map, “I was.” he stated, deciding to ignore the ‘fangirl’ comment, "I had a rival and everything. His father was rich and he was all snobbish to my friend so I refused to shake his hand when I was ten - been enemies ever since. Although that kind of changed when I saved his life from a fire at school…” he trailed off, remembering the event well and thinking of Crabbe who had been the one to end himself in the most stupid way possible.

However, wondering thoughts were cut short when Lucy cleared her throat to get his attention, “Are you a damn Saint?” she asked incredulously looking down at her friend.

Nodding slightly and squinting his eyes, he wondered if ‘Saint’ really fit the description in how others saw him. “Not really… Loads of people liked me and my parents were well known so I was well known by association. I was extremely popular, but I only had a few friends that really stuck by me in the end and even then, they kind of flipped when I said I didn’t want to go back to school yet. There were times though that I was at the wrong place and the wrong time and I was blamed immediately without any kind of evidence and then the school would turn on me - even my teachers would treat me colder than they usually would.” he shrugged, looking at his map the entire time, but jolted in mild shock when he felt fingers in his hair.

Looking back up at his friend, he saw her gentle and sad smile as she continued to thread her fingers through his silky locks in a motherly way. “I can’t imagine what it felt like. Being so alone and to have the adults turn on you like they did. It’s unforgivable…” she growled out, feeling strongly about it.

“It’s fine, now. They’ve all made up for it ten-fold since those times.” he shrugged. If anything, those that had turned their backs and called him crazy had paid for it dearly when they were forced into the battle against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, having no choice but to draw their wands in order to protect the children and themselves. Some had died and others had experienced trauma that they would never be able to get over, not when they looked around and saw their young students shot with colourful lights and then falling to the ground, eyes wide and glassy with their deaths… No one had left the final battle unscathed…

“That’s no excuse. They shouldn’t have done it in the first place…” she intoned darkly, dark brown orbs cast aside as she thought about the psychological impact that it could have on a child, the list of possible outcomes mounting in her mind’s eye.

Silently, Harry just nodded, knowing that the only way to deal with Lucy’s anger, due to something in his school-life or childhood, was to change the subject entirely. “So do you know any good places that I can quickly get my license?”

Distraction having worked, Lucy looked down at her friend and slowly nodded, “Yeah. It’s an intense driving corse. It’s about fifteen hours long and only lasts a whole week. You have to pass your theory test before hand, though, and then do the hours. If the driving instructor is satisfied with your driving by then, you’ll get your license. But, it’s really hard and barely anyone goes that route and passes, but it’s up to you.” she shrugged, though she knew that her friend was probably going to take it and was most likely going to pass on his first try so she didn’t persuade him to do otherwise like she would others. Harry could handle it.

* * *

Three days of constant study was not a good-Harry-make. There was little to no sleep and most of his hours, in those three days, were spent with his nose constantly in a book as he stressed over the test that he could either fail or pass. He’d booked up his test at the soonest possible date, but he misjudged the amount of information he’d had to absorb until his test. While he was perfectly handy with a car and practical work in general, theory had always been his downfall in any subject. Remembering his school days when he’d gotten too low a score on a test or was humiliated by classmates and teachers alike when they announced his academic failures or short-comings, looking down at him with disappointment and a sneer hidden behind that pitying look in their eyes (his mind was not at all rational, in that moment, as it ignored the fact that the reasons for his shortcomings was due to Dumbledore's meddling of Harry’s magic and intellect).

This frantic floundering for studying had his friends attempting to snatch the stress-inducing book from him and telling him to settle down for a little while. However, they quickly learnt not to even think of such a thing when Harry nearly bloody well ripped their arms off. Dark circles darkened his eyes and even his boss had noticed Harry’s high-stress emotional state and tried to get the cue-cards away from him so that he could find an escape from the revision in his work, than constantly obsessing over his studies… This was another thing that didn’t work.

It was fair to say that everyone was relieved when Harry came home after the third day with a sheet of paper that had declared that Harry ‘PASSED’ on the theory test in one hand and a Chinese takeaway in the other. His friends were just happy that the test was over, quietly wondering if Harry had been this bad when taking past exams in his old school. It was to the immense relief of everyone when Harry fell asleep at the table, happy that he’d be getting a full night’s sleep for the first time in three days than setting an alarm and settling for a power nap.

Next on the list was the week crash course which Harry had been looking forward to. He knew that he could do this part of driving, confidence in his practical abilities making him unconcerned about his first time legally driving a car. He’d booked in ten hours for one week alone, wanting to get this done as soon as possible, taking time off work in order to do so.

Towards the end of the week, Harry was proved to be an excellent driver with perfect perception and reaction times, enabling him to be safe on the road with others. When he passed his test, a little card with his photo on it to prove it, he and his friends celebrated by going out to dinner together and then going to a college bar that didn’t mind serving minors that looked older than what they were. The next day, Harry bought and insured a new car for himself, a hum-vee type car which was appropriate for where he wanted to travel to.

With that out of the way, Harry fell into a more normal schedule for this time of year. It was December, so Christmas and New Years was fast approaching. The staff had increased with the seasonal business and so Harry had been assigned to teach them the ropes of the coffee machines and the drinks that they served, though it took the new crew a while to understand what Harry had explained, despite staring at him with their full attention, when he trained them. Odd. He’d asked Thomas what that was all about, but his friend had only laughed and shook his head, patting Harry’s head as if he were a small, innocent child.

Work was one thing, but Harry’s thoughts were turning blank when it came to getting any presents for anyone. Despite the years of having his own money to spend from his collective vaults, Harry still had a problem with buying things. Sure he’d spend money when it was necessary, or for sweets, but he was often a sensible spender. Spending money on presents for other people was a completely foreign experience for Harry, having never had the expenses to do so before hand, and so he hardly participated or forgot with the gift exchange. This year though, he wanted to do this. Wanted to do this holiday properly, with family and friends and not in a too-big-castle because his Aunt and Uncle didn’t want him home to ruin their holiday together as a perfectly ordinary family, or staring at the festive event through a gap in his cupboard door.

So, on the weekend, when his boss had decided to be surprisingly generous and give him the weekend off, and when the guys were far too busy studying for their December exams to do anything but mutter incoherently at him. It was perfect.

Without further ado, Harry hopped in his car, put the keys in the ignition and started the engine, plans and schemes swirling in his mind.

It took him two hours to get to Miami beach and parked in a public garage. He knew from the last time he’d visited Miami with the girls, that there was a magical entrance near by - perhaps a shopping district or something of that sort. It seemed to beckon him, leading him by nose to its opening, like a line of live magic that hooked onto his own and tugged. He went willingly and soon found himself outside an antique shop. It was dingy and musty, reminding him of Borgin & Burkes, with all the odd assortment of items and books that looked far too old to be anywhere but in a museum, behind protective glass. Nonetheless, Harry walked through the deserted store with cautious steps, willing himself not to draw his wand. No one seemed to own the store, his slow heartbeat being the only thing he could hear within the dusty proximity, and so he followed the magic further in, until it lead him around a corner and to a blank brick wall. He took a second to stare at the small section of wall in its entirety, before he suddenly had a flash of image - the stone column that he ran through every year in order to get to platform 9 and 3/4 - and then he looked at the wall with understanding. Casually, he leaned against the wall and almost immediately, like the magic of the wall itself was eager for him to cross the threshold, and nearly stumbled as he came out the other side.

As soon as he regained his balance, Harry froze before he looked around himself, taking in everything with wide, green eyes. This was nothing like Diagon Ally, other than the crowd and the shops, the layout was vastly different than the cobble-stoned sensation that was the London Wizarding shopping district. It didn’t look too different to an American muggle shopping mall, though it had the added feature of magic. The displays outside the countless shops were floating, signs changing to encouraging and persuasive comments in order to get people to go in a buy their products, there were escalator-type stairs that led to upper and lower floors. Curiously, Harry walked to the banister and looked over the edge, eyes widening further when he saw that the levels seemed to go on forever, scores of people travelling between the endless amount of floors or stepping into fireplaces and stating the items they wanted or the shop before being transported to that floor. The escalators were more like stone slabs that people stood on, the slabs levitating up to the next floor or down. It was hectic and confusing and Harry had to step back from the edge for a moment in order to regain his bearings.

He needed to get to the bank. Pronto.

The rings that he had for all the houses he belonged to were separated on a link of chain that looped around his wrist, the chain powerfully charmed to be unbreakable with no clasp to take it off. Harry had generally made the bracelet invisible to the naked eye, much like his holder and wand that sat comfortably and within easy reach on his forearm. With those, Harry should be able to get to his vaults as well as the items inside. He took out the piece of parchment that he had kept from his last eye-opening visit to the bank, eying the magical items and mentally listing the ones that he wanted to check out and use, the forget-me hat from the Sedamont vault as well as the endless coin pouch from the second Peverell vault.

With determination, Harry went over to the fireplace, ready to floo to the bank. Grabbing and handful of the green powder, that was supplied to the users in an bottomless vase to the side of it, and threw it down, stating in a commanding voice, “The Wizarding Bank.” then, after feeling like he was being stretched too far and compressed too small, Harry was spat out on the other side in such a sudden way that he felt his head reeling and nearly fell on his face. Thankfully, he caught himself on the side of the fireplace and heaved deep, calming breaths in order to keep himself from throwing up. He’d always hated Wizard transport - it was like a rollercoaster ride with none of the safety and security measures, but all the risk. He couldn’t help but think to the time when Ron had tried to apparate but had come out on the other side with a chunk of his arm missing.

Shaking off the memory, Harry looked about and then froze once again. One would think that after all this time, he’d stop being so shocked about the world he belonged to. He looked at the bank and he found his head tilting up, and up, and up, until he saw the very top of the castle-like bank, expression incredulous and slightly surprised as he watch Wizards and Witches in the carts - much like the underground carts of the Underground Gringotts travelling network - whooping with joy and thrill as they did the loop-de-loop and then dived back down into the building once again.

Blinking, Harry shook his head once more before walking to the front of the building, the huge white double-doors that opened when they sensed his desire to enter. As he walked in, it was much like the bank in Gringotts, the ceilings were tall and grand and the floors were white with swirls of dark, shining marble. There were a few Goblins balancing the gold and silver coins in their luxurious scales with their long fingers and their grinning sharp teeth with spectacles balanced on the bridges of their pointed noses, but there were also Wizards and Witches among the tellers, passing the pouch of coins along and then writing things down with their quill and parchment. The atmosphere was more lively than that of the London Gringotts and it seemed to be more diverse, the combination of species allowing Harry to relax slightly as he walked up to the front desk, one that wasn’t as tall and intimidating like in Diagon Ally. The Witch smiled at him in a customer-service type of way that Harry had learned to do when he was serving coffee.

“Hello, welcome to Gringrove. How may I help you today?” she smiled warmly in a way that made Harry feel less nervous than usual.

“Er,” he started off uncomfortably, “I’d like to withdraw some money from my vaults as well as a few items. But, my vaults are mainly based in London. Will that be an issue?” he asked, hoping that they wouldn’t just tell him to fly back home in order to retrieve some money.

She smiled at him, shaking her head, though he could see a curious glint in her eyes when she heard his English accent. Why wouldn’t she? It wasn’t often that a Wizard from Europe would come to America willingly, “Not at all. All the banks in the Wizarding world are connected. No matter where you are in the world, you’ll be able to visit your vault or vaults anytime you like. I just need your name and key.”

“My name is Harry Potter.” he stated as he pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his heirloom bracelet which were the equivalent to his vault keys.

Immediately, the woman seemed to stiffen at the name, eyes widening and smile frozen, looking to be in no small amount of shock. He narrowed his eyes in caution, wondering if she was going to freak out or fangirl. He wasn’t sure which one he would prefer.

“Oh,” was all she said, voice strained as she continued to stare at Harry with wide eyes, making the green-eyed Wizard tilt his head in confusion. She blinked at him again, “You’re so much younger than I expected… I mean, I know that you’re seventeen, but… Still… And they put you in that war-"

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Harry interrupted her, wanting more than anything to just escape her pitying stare and get his money before running out the bank. “Bad memories…”

“Oh,” she winced, before turning away and shifting her hair nervously, looking guilty, “Yeah, of course. Let me just get a guide for you. I understand that you have multiple vaults. Was there one in particular that you wanted to visit?"

“Er, yeah. I was hoping to visit the Sedamont vault as well as the second Peverell vault. There’s a coin pouch from the Peverell vault that I was hoping to link to one or all of my vaults so that I can be within easy reach of money. Is that possible?” he asked tilting his head and frowning in thought.

The woman nodded, seeming to have reeled herself in to her professional state once more, honing onto to the fact that Harry was a customer, rather than a visiting war hero. “You’ll have to bring that up with your vault manager to verify the order to link up multiple vaults to your coin pouch, but I know it’s possible for one vault to be magically linked to your coin pouch. You’d have to sign a contract to verify your demand and whatever you take out of your vaults will be recorded by your personal vaults manager. Would you like to be taken to your vaults now?”

“Yes, please.” he nodded.

The next thing he knew, there was a flurry of movement as Harry was whisked away to one of the waiting carts and the small door firmly shut and locked. With a tap of a wand and before Harry could even express a moment of protest or panic, the cart was off. It wasted no time in building suspense as it shot up a massive hill, up and through the bank’s ceiling and into the outside world, and then paused for a split second as Harry looked around and admired the view of the shopping district, wind tussling his hair as he looked down at the white castle that was the Miami bank the sheer massiveness truly only something to be awed at from above. And then the split second of peacefulness was over as he was sent hurtling over the edge of the peak at top speeds, a vertical drop into a large dark hole where the rest of the journey couldn’t be determined. He couldn’t help the yell of fear that escaped him, eyes watering at the speeds he was going and being hit in the face by a cold wind, and he was deathly aware of the fact that he didn’t have anything to actually secure him to the mad cart-ride he was on.

After a few sharp turns, drops and loop-de-loops, the cart finally came to a screeching halt and Harry could only stand there and breath heavily, watery eyes wide and knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the cart in front of him. His hair was completely windswept, sticking up in all directions and if he still had glasses, Harry was sure that they would either be gone or crooked.

“Mr. Potter?” came a tentative voice, questioning and unsure.

Stiffly, Harry turned to face the source of the voice, blinking firmly a few times before he cleared his throat and trying to discreetly release the edge of the cart from his iron-clad grip. “Y-Yes?”

“My name is Gropknaw. I am your American bank liaison. If you step out of the cart, we can discuss what you wish to do. To my understanding, you wish to link your vaults together, a contract is ready to be written up when talks are finished.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Harry muttered, mainly to himself more than the goblin that was greeting him. Stepping out of the death-trap of a cart, his knees felt like they were about to buckle under the weight of his own body and he felt his stomach clench threateningly as he moved, his shaky hand moving to his windswept hair as he tried to flatten the dark curls that now left his forehead and scar bare. At that realisation, Harry attempted to flatten his hair with a bit more urgency, wanting to cover the dreaded mark that linked him to his past.

With every step, he gained more strength and soon didn’t feel like he was on the verge of throwing up, his hand joining the other in an attempt to flatten his messy hair once again. Following the goblin with an absent mind, Harry almost tripped over the thick and lush cream carpets when he entered a rather grand and spacious room that, with the massive oaken desk and red velvet high-back chair behind it, was obviously an office. Without prompt, Harry sat in the available chair near the door he’d just entered, while his companion circled the desk and hopped up onto his own chair that rose a little more in height as to accommodate the goblin’s small stature. On the oaken desk, there was a blank piece of parchment that had the words ‘Bank Statements of terms and transactions’ on the very top in dark, cursive ink.

“I understand that you wish to obtain a couple of items from your vaults? I will have to list each one and what you wish to have done to them. Things such as the alterations of the coin pouch, which you have mentioned, will be completed with additional payment on your part. Now, shall we get down to business?”

With a jerky nod, mind still reeling from the possible endangerment of his life from the cart ride, Harry cleared his throat before he spoke, glad to hear that his voice wasn’t as stutter-y as it had been before. “Yes, of course.”

An hour later and Harry walked out of the bank with a smile on his lips and breath lighter in his chest. He wore a hat upon his head that he had scooped up from his Sedamont vault, thankful that the victorian top-hat he found had turned into a dark blue ball-cap that now sat on top of his head - the forget-me hat that Harry knew would come in handy if or when he went back to London. There was also a small, inconspicuous pouch that hung from the loop of his jeans from its draw strings that were impossible to untangle for anyone but him, linked to his vaults so that he could reach for his money at any moments notice (once again, only available to him and none others), bottomless and with the ability to store things and call them forth when sticking his hand in the bag.

Walking into the ice-cream parlour, Harry ordered himself a chocolate and mint mix before sitting down with a pen and paper, ready to list the things that would be needed for his shopping. Leisurely, he wrote down all the names and then the possible gifts beside them, smirking slightly when he completed writing each goal, happily strategising the quickest ways to go about the shopping and such - he was so glad that the girls weren’t here for another dreaded shopping spree, where they’d go into every shop and down every isle and try on every cute top they saw… Harry suppressed a shiver as the terrible, and slightly traumatic, memory surfaced in his mind, forcing himself to turn back to the matter at hand while eating another delicious scoop of ice-cream to calm his fraying nerves.

* * *

“Where have you been?! I was trying to find you so that you could help me with my cue cards and revision, but you were gone and so was your car!” Lucy shouted, dark long hair in disarray with a different assortment of colourful marker pens on her face.

“Well, I, er…” he tried to get out, a little afraid for his life when faced with… well, what was in front of him…

“You know what?” she cut him off, holding her hand out, before snatching up his wrist in an iron grip, “I don’t care! Get inside and help me study! Daisy wants to use you for some modelling to practice her real-life sketching, so you can do both!” she shouted, though Harry had a feeling that she didn’t actually realise that she was shouting in his face.

“Okay. I brought back some doughnuts if your interested.” he shrugged with a small smile gracing his lips. No other feeling could quell the small warmth in his chest as he helped his friends in their trivial ‘end of the world' dramatics, so much different from what he’d gone through last year… “I got jam, or ‘jelly' as you call it. I know it’s both of your favourites.”

“Thanks, RG! You’re the best!” they both chorused with identical smiles in his direction.

Yeah, nothing could beat this feeling…


	7. Christmas beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Christmas has been and gone, but it’s something I can’t help. Hope you like it anyways.

Hands clenched firmly around the steering wheel of his car, Harry had to fight with himself to not make a harsh U-turn and just head back to his apartment. His ears were ringing with the noise and overlap of voices, he desperately wanted to whack on the radio, but the last time he’d done that Lucy had given him such a death glare that he’d felt the calling of his own grave… Lucy was right beside him, Daisy directly behind him in the backseat with Thomas in the middle and David sitting next to him, and all of them were talking - well, more like yelling. A collection of luggage and wrapped presents were crammed into the wide boot of his car - made discreetly wider by Harry’s expansion charms, which none had commented on - nearly blocking his view of the back window.

They were outside the city limits, within the suburban area with wide roads and detached housing. It was much like what he had grown up in and the small and quiet environment put his teeth on edge. However, he tried not to let it show as he made his way deeper into the suburban country, that seemed to be a never ending maze of houses and roads to follow, a gaggle of kids on bikes around nearly every corner to be wary of hitting.

Thomas and David joining had been more of a last minute thing than anything planned. Dave had planned on travelling back to Canada to his grandparents' place to meet the rest of his family, but there had been a mix-up of the flights that hadn’t been his fault and he found himself a plane ticket for after Christmas instead of before, which emptied out his Christmas plans quite neatly. Thomas was planning on visiting his parents in Washington, but they had won a surprise couple’s cruise for Christmas and New Years and so found his plans cancelled. Thankfully, the twins’ parents, Joe and Eve, who’d already been willing to feed and house Harry for the holidays, had been extremely accommodating and invited them all to stay at their’s for the holidays, though warned them of the pullout bed in the living room that one would have to volunteer for.

Just as they were turning left into another street, Lucy pointed to the house that they were all to stay in for the next few days or so. The house seemed like any other. It was a two story house with a bright blue door that seemed to suit the white-shuttered home, with a large tree out front that had a thick rope attached to one of the thicker branches, however there seemed to be nothing hanging from the end as it was frayed and snapped. The house itself looked charming and Harry could see it being in every suburban movie ever filmed, though the Christmas decorations didn’t look to be up yet, making it strangely bare in comparison to the rest of the street.

While the Dursley’s celebrated Christmas in their home, before he went to Hogwarts, he was never actually allowed to participate in it. He never got presents, he didn’t get to write a letter to Santa, he didn’t get to decorate and set out the cookies, he didn’t take part in the large roasted meal with crackers for each person. Instead, Harry got the left-overs from the meal, the sprouts that Dudley refused to eat, the piece of meat on the chicken bone that Aunt Petunia couldn’t finish off, the half potato that was a bit on the burnt side of nice. He usually got locked in his cupboard or was forced to hang the lights outside with a hook and nail while Uncle Vernon rattled the ladder below him, his uncle being too overweight to do so, Petunia being a woman and so couldn’t do any of the trade-work, and Duddikins being too young and special - Harry, on the other hand, was disposable.

At Hogwarts, while it had been better than any other Christmas’ with the Dursley’s combined, he had not taken part in the decorating sense of the festive holiday. One night he had gone to sleep and the next morning, he’d woken up to his room filled with tinsel, paper chains and floating ball-balls with mistletoe growing in random doorways and then disappearing from sight. He’d never taken part in the decorating and, honestly, didn’t know where to start in the idea of it…

Suddenly, dread started to pool in his stomach and Harry found himself holding his breath as he neatly pulled into the drive, the front door opening at the same time his engine cut, to reveal two smiling and completely normal-looking parents. Joe looked to be in his late fifties, wrinkled and his beard looking more grey than the brown that it had probably been years ago with his hair noticeably thinning at the top - a bit of a beer belly sat at his middle, but he didn’t look overly unhealthy. Eve was a small woman and Harry could see the twin’s resemblance more in their mother than in their father as she had tanned skin and brown hair (dyed) with dark eyes that showed her heritage as a Latina, though she wore the same wrinkles as her husband; happy wrinkles around their eyes and wide smiles. They looked very normal and Harry was suddenly hit with a vision of his own parents, aged and greying with happy wrinkles around their eyes with glowing smiles on their faces, when they saw him visiting for the holidays, making a perfect family between them all - maybe he’d even have a few younger siblings, as well. Quickly, he shook the fake memory away and blinked furiously as he clenched the steering wheel, quietly wondering why he was having such thoughts after all his times shared with the Weasleys?

He startled mildly when he felt a warm hand over his bicep, squeezing comfortingly and his gaze jumped up to meet Lucy’s warm one. Understanding seemed to shine through her dark eyes as she whispered in a low voice, as everyone jumped out the car, stretching their legs from the long drive, “I don’t know what your last Christmases have been like, but nothing bad will happen to you here, okay? You’re not going to be forced to do anything you don’t want to do,” she smiled widely at him, all seriousness melting from her voice as she laughed, “Except maybe my mom, who will force you to try some of her cookie mix before she puts it in the oven. Me and Days have told her all about your cooking skills and she’s eager to finally share her recipes with someone as neither me or Days took a liking to it.” she shrugged and slapped him lightly on the shoulder before hopping out the car herself.

With a faint, but real smile, Harry nodded to himself before he got out the car himself, swiftly travelling to the back of the car, in order to secure his bag of presents and his luggage, not putting it past Thomas to blatantly sneak a peek by ripping them all open in broad daylight…

Soon, they were all inside the house, bags and luggage set down by each of their feet, well, the boys were standing beside their stuff, standing awkwardly in the hallway as the twins greeted their parents enthusiastically. The elder couple looked so happy to be reunited with their loved ones and Harry found himself transfixed by the interaction, completely fascinated by the event and he only managed to blink himself back to awareness when he felt Dave’s warm hand on his arm, looking down at Harry would obvious concern in his eyes which the Brit shrugged off with a reassuring smile. After the family reunion, they all seemed to turn as one to face the three male visitors, making Harry tense up despite the warm smiles directed their way.

“Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter, David Jordan and Thomas Peck.” Lucy introduced enthusiastically.

“Yeah, we’ve told you about them before,” Daisy deadpanned with a small smirk at her twin.

Stepping forward, Harry held out his hand to shake, smiling nervously, “Hello, sir, I’m Harry. Thank you for letting us stay with you and- oomph!” he wheezed when his hand was ignored and Joe yanked him by his wrist, forcing him to stumble forward and into a firm hug, in which the guy jovially jiggled them from side to side before releasing him with a firm pat in the shoulder.

He laughed at Harry’s shocked expression, “Good to know that the British ‘stiff upper lip’ is true,” he ruffled Harry’s dark curls, “No need for formalities, son. It’s the holidays, not boot camp.”

“Boot camp?” he frowned in confusion, wondering what that was.

“Don’t worry about it.” Thomas elbowed him in the ribs lightly with a fond smile on his lips, before practically throwing himself at the twins’ father in an all consuming hug.

Soon the introductions were finished and Harry was escorted by Lucy up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms that was usually reserved for one family member or another. Having been left alone in the room, Harry took a chance to look around himself and took in the largeness of the room, with a large double bed and a quilt of neutral colours that matched the curtains and the other furniture within the room. On one side of the wall was a cased display of cut squares of wood, fashioned out like a periodic table with the names marked underneath that identified it to the type of tree it had been taken from. It was a very unique display and Harry briefly wondered if Joe had once been a lumber-jack or possibly a carpenter at one point in his career.

Setting his bag down, he started to remove all his clothes that he had picked for the next five days of his stay, taking extra care in hanging up his formal wear for when they sat down for Christmas dinner, and folding everything else up into the draws.

Taking a deep breath, Harry let it out slowly and measuredly as he looked around his room once more, before flopping down on his bed ungracefully as he brought his fingers to interlock over his stomach. He winced slightly when all he could feel were knots in his gut that made him feel queasy and uncertain, somewhat wanting to have stayed at his flat and spend the Christmas holidays alone, like usual, or maybe at work as to keep himself busy. The suburbs made him feel uncomfortable and Harry really doubted he’d be able to ever have a house in this sort of neighbourhood - there were just too many bad memories to go with friendly little neighbourhoods such as the one he was in.

Suddenly, there came a knock at the door that startled him so badly, he’d drawn his wand to defend himself. “Harry?” came the imploring question from Mrs Steale, “It’s nearly supper time, honey, would you like some dinner?”

“Th-That would be lovely, Mrs Steale. I’ll be along in just a few moments, thank you.” he called back, hastily stuffing his wand back into the invisible holster, trying to shake off the weariness he felt in just being in this environment. He hadn’t drawn his wand like that in months… Merlin, he really hated the suburbs…

Quickly and efficiently, Harry flattened out the possible creases of his t-shirt and dragged his hands through his untameable hair that seemed a little more frazzled than normal, before slipping out the door of his temporary room and made his way down the stairs, where the compelling scent of food was leading him. He smiled slightly as he leaned against the double doorway that was the entrance to the dining room, watching the interaction of the twins seated in their usual places at the table and stifling giggles as they watched Thomas and Dave being grilled by their father, the elder talking to them in an equally kind and threatening manner as he talked about the well-being for his ‘precious babies’. Dave and Thomas seemed to gulp as one as they stared down at the scary man that had seemed so nice just a few minutes ago before turning into Mr Hyde…

“Oh, Harry!” Eve greeted, smiling widely at the young man, gesturing enthusiastically for him to join them in the room, “Come sit down somewhere.”

At the interruption, Dave and Thomas turned to him as one, eyes begging to be saved from Joe. Their hopes and dreams of being liberated and saved instantly crashed and burned when Harry smirked and mouthed ‘suffer’ at them before smiling charmingly at Eve and sitting down at the nearest set seating place.

By the time everyone was sat down at the rather large table, Harry had calmed down and relaxed considerably, letting himself get lost in the conversation and joking around the table that wasn’t much different to their dinners in the city, just with two extra people. The topic moved from one thing to another, bouncing around childhood stories, studies, jobs and what not. Harry actually found out that the broken ropes on the tree outside was a tale of younger days when the twins and a friend of theirs had thought it a brilliant idea to all pile on and swing together. The end result was the frayed ropes on the tree that Joe had never gotten round to repairing - now it was just part of the house’s character. Suddenly, the conversation got turned around to remembered christmas presents and events from their childhoods, Harry being able to imagine the twins as dark-haired little devils in disguise, getting a pink mini-car to cause havoc in.

“I remember my first Christmas present,” Harry contributed, completely at ease as his green eyes seemed lost in the happy memories, “I was only eleven and I’d gotten my first ever Christmas jumper with the letter ‘H’ hand-stitched on the front that I’d gotten from my mate’s mum. I was so happy, I didn’t take it off for the whole week I spent at the school and Ron constantly complained about how embarrassing his was and asked why I was always so happy with it. I was so upset when my cousin cut it up with scissors, I cried for almost a week - but I got one every Christmas so it was fine.” he smiled, happy at the memory and completely oblivious to the fact that everyone at the table had stopped eating to stare at Harry with expressions ranging from anger on Harry’s behalf, to pity at what he’d been through.

“You’re first Christmas present was when you were eleven?” Eve asked, voice faint but getting stronger with her rising anger at Harry’s past carers.

Realising his mistake, Harry blushed a deep, embarrassed red and found his hands flailing around in search for a cover, “I-I mean, er, that was the first present that I had gotten from someone else’s mum. I had presents before that,” yeah, a punch to the face was his yearly gift from his cousin, “Molly’s was one that just stuck with me, you know. She was always like the mum I’d always wanted…” he trailed off lamely, knowing full well that none at the table believed his rushed cover-up. He decided to go for the next best thing, “So, are the boys and I helping you with the Christmas decorations, Mr Steale? I’m quite good at preparing the Christmas crackers and such.” he smiled, only to loose it when he got a blank stare from everyone at the table.

“Crackers? Like food?” Thomas asked, wondering if Harry meant that they’d have crackers shaped at christmas trees to eat or something. Maybe the whole thing about cheese and crackers for appetisers in Britain was true?

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I mean the crackers with the gifts, the terrible jokes and the paper crowns inside. You have to grab hold of one side each and pull, whoever gets the biggest bit, gets the gift and what’s inside - kind of like a wish bone when the winner gets a wish?” he asked, wondering why the hell Americans didn’t have christmas crackers. At their still confused expressions, Harry sat back in his chair and groaned, rubbing a hand to his forehead, “I’ll have to send you some next year…”

“Oh, that’ll be lovely, dear,” Eve clapped her hands, looking exceptionally pleased by his offer, “I hear that you’ll be moving on soon, anywhere in mind?” she asked, genially curious about Harry’s future travels.

Blushing slightly with all the attention that was now on him, Harry cleared his throat before answering, “Well, I was thinking that I may stop in Mexico and stay until their Halloween, see what goes down. Heard that there was nothing else like it.” he admitted, thinking of the rumours at the magical mall he’d visited. In his mind, he had a rough guid and time frame in which he wanted to do everything, in theory, though he wasn’t sure where his travels would take him when he got going…

“Halloween? I thought you hated that holiday?” Dave interrupted, an accusing note in his voice, obviously remembering the past Halloween with them that Harry had stubbornly refused to celebrate.

“This is different,” Harry shrugged, “America and Britain adopted the holiday of Halloween in order to make the corporations in that field more money for that day in general. Dated two thousand years back, the Celtics called Halloween the festival of Samhain which was about the time that summer ended and cold set in which took more human life than not. Due to this time, they believed that the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. Some thought that they could communicate with the dead, so they’d have these massive bonfires in which they sacrificed crops and animals to the Celtic gods and danced around the fire in dead animal heads and skins in order to tell each other’s fortunes.” he explained, remembering the Halloween in which Hermione had gone off on a tanged about how they celebrated Halloween wrong in Hogwarts. He smiled brightly when they all stared at him with varying degrees of shock (the twins' parents) and fond exasperation (everyone else). “I’m interested to see the celebrations Mexico have as they haven’t changed from their traditions - much.”

“That's interesting,” Eve blinked, trying to force herself out of her shock, “Where else you planning on going?”

“I wanted to head to the Amazon Rainforest and stay with a few tribes for about a year. Then I wanted to head to South Africa, stay with a couple of clans for another year and then move onto Japan for a year, before finishing in Australia - again, for a year. I don’t know what’ll happen in between, but that’s the general places that I wanted to visit before going back and finishing school and then settling down with a few degrees.”

“So you wanna go back to England when all is said and done?” Lucy asked, looking equally concerned and protective over her young friend.

Harry shrugged, “I’ll be gone for about five years at that point. If I don’t feel comfortable still, I can just do my learning there and then go somewhere else. I have properties all over the place so it’s not like I’ll have nowhere to go if I’m not welcome anyways.” he shrugged, trying not to think about how heartbroken he’d feel if his remaining friends and Magical Britain rejected him for doing what he wanted with his life.

“Well, it sounds like quite an adventure you’ve got planned.” Joe smiled at Harry, happy that the youth seemed to be living the life he wanted, despite what had happened to him (well, Joe didn’t know what the kid had gone through, but he could infer from Harry’s little anecdote and the visible scars that he couldn’t quite cover up).

Smiling widely, Harry nodded, “Yeah, but I’m gonna be calling these guys every few weeks or so, so it’s gonna be like I never left.” Harry chuckled, smiling fondly at his friends when they seemed to relax at the reassurance that he wasn’t going to just take off and they’d never hear from him again. He didn’t miss the small satisfied smile that Joe and Eve shared, as if glad that Harry wasn’t going to vanish from their daughters' lives in a snap of his fingers.

Relaxing once again, Harry settled down to finish his dinner, happy to have a homemade meal that was made by a mum (he didn’t know why, but any meal made by a mum always tasted batter to him than a normal one, homemade or not). This Christmas was going to be good.

* * *

The three days before Christmas and Harry felt like he hadn’t stopped for a second. He and the boys were constantly busy, putting up decorations, untangling the lights, and taste-testing the girls' cooking (or Harry’s cooking when they asked for his help). The activities they needed to do was non-stop, but Harry couldn’t help but have a good time as he laughed at his friends' accidents or when Harry’d been pushed into the Steale’s fish pond in the back garden. Stringing popcorn was a thing that was foreign to Harry, having never even heard of this decoration at home, though he doubted he’d be doing it ever again with the amount of times he’d pricked his finger on the needle when not paying attention.

On the first day, the lights were up outside the house and Harry couldn’t help but watch in amazement as the lights they had spent hours coordinating to Mrs Steale’s wishes displayed the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The roof was practically covered in the lights, gold and blue LED bulbs flashing on and off randomly in their swirls and loops across the dull tiles, the side of the house was much the same, but they seemed to trickle away at the bottom, as if imitating icicles. The front garden tree looked more like a beacon of light than something of nature and the frayed ropes were wrapped in the lines of light all the way down to the bottom. The door was christened with a ring of holly over the bronze door-knob and a perimeter of lights around the edge. No longer did the house look cold and intimidating, but suited the rest of the street just fine, the only real difference was that the Steale’s didn’t have any figurines in their gardens, which was apparently an age thing for the resident kids that lived in those houses and since Lucy and Daisy were in University, the Santa and reindeer didn’t go up as often as they used to.

The second day was based on the rest of the house. The girls decorated the interior, decorating the Christmas tree after Dave and Thomas propped it up, and using lights and tinsel like it was going out of fashion, wrapping it around chairs, the stair banister and the fireplace, while the stung up paper chains and popcorn strings over the ceiling and around the lights, making it all look organised and pretty. The boys were sent on outside detail once again as they decorated the back of the house. Once again, covering the place with LED lights until it looked like Christmas had puked on it. Harry had just been placing some lights around the pond, finishing up the job, when Thomas came up behind him and shoved him into the freezing waters with the large fishes… Harry hadn’t been impressed, especially when Dave and Joe just pointed and laughed, though he felt especially smug when Eve rushed him in, bundled him with blankets and placed a nice extra-large mug of hot coco with mini-marshmallows in his hands before patting his hair and leaving the remote with him. He made sure to send them a smug grin through the window when he saw one of the guys looking in at him longingly, making them grumble and turn away with a glare and a pout.

The third day was full of cooking in preparation for Christmas dinner the next day as well as Christmas Eve’s dinner that night, as well. The guys mainly just lazed around and taste tested or mixed up something in a bowl. Except Harry, who had been shoved into the kitchen and told to cook - his ability in the kitchen having not escaped Eve’s ear when the twins told her about him. They made an assortment of dishes and by the end of it, they looked nearly as bad as Thanksgiving with food all over them. Once again, Harry’s mid-night black hair was near white with the amount of flour Daisy thought would be funny to throw at his head (she had an excuse that she’d warned him to catch it before throwing, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion that she was lying). Harry had even had to use magic in the shower in order to get it all out of his hair!

By the time he was waking up for Christmas, it was late morning - due to the fact that they’d stayed up all night playing monopoly. Harry had no idea how competitive board games could be, whenever he saw Dudley and Petunia playing, Petunia would always loose in the face of her child and she seemed fine with it. Monopoly seemed like a cut-throat game, without the blood and more of the savage bankruptcy. It had been fun and Dave ended up showing a side that none were familiar with as he piled up his money and danced around as he threw it in the air, completely revelling in his long-earned victory. The image of Thomas near tears when he was forced to hand his red hotel figurines over to Eve (the banker) would forever be a cherished memory.

As he walked down the stairs with a loud yawn that cracked his jaw, arms stretched overhead, as if to reach the ceiling, until his back gave a satisfying crack and Harry put his arms down and let his shoulders slump lazily. He smiled widely when he saw everyone else already awake and in the living room, drinking their morning coffees, or hot chocolates in the twins' case. Waving at them, Harry made his way to the kitchen and danced his fingers on the kettle and then drew them back when it proved to be freshly boiled.

After having brewed himself a cup of tea, he migrated to the living room, cradling his steaming mug like it was the source of his life, before melting into the sofa with a long, appreciative sigh. They all sat like that for a while, listening to the peacefulness of the Christmas morning - that was until the twins finished their drinks and then started to hand out all the presents to their rightful owners, each of them getting an even pile of presents.

Harry was very happy with what he had gotten his friends. His time in the Miami Magical Mall had allowed him to collect everything he'd needed for the Christmas holiday. For Lucy, he’d gotten a rose gold necklace that he’d saw her eyeing in a jewellery store when they had visited Miami beach last time. Daisy was graced with a set of paint-brushes that looked high-end (in truth, they were magically enhanced to never wear and bristle - staying pristine and slick until she was greying and wrinkly, though she’d never figure that out as it was so low-key in magic). When Thomas opened up his present, he looked constipated with his strained smile that he aimed in Harry’s direction with his coffee-cup gift set that Harry had got him, but upon closer look, the mug was decorated in a number of different photos of the group, from drunken escapades to cuddling up on the sofa - Harry had never gotten a bigger hug from the lanky man when he saw what was really on the mug. Dave had the biggest present and was beyond happy to uncover the crate of butter beer that Harry had acquired, a set of tolerance instructions written in bold on the top. Joe and Eve received and nice bottle of old wine that Harry had removed from one of his vaults (after making sure it was one hundred percent muggle-friendly).

In return, Harry got a number of things from all of them. From Joe and Eve, he’d been gifted a general jar of American sweets that was honestly the size of his head - everyone else had gotten the same thing from the elder couple. A sturdy-looking compass was given to him by Dave with the idea of helping Harry with his travels. Thomas had surprised Harry by giving him an album of photos of their time together, as well as a tone of spaces for future photo taking with space for captions and to stick small things such as flowers or feathers in them. Daisy had given him an old camera, called an instax mini, that instantly printed photos, a dozen packs of film to go with it (apparently, it was her old one, but was still in working condition and she wanted him to send them as many photos as he possibly could). Lucy practically threw her wrapped present at his face, she was so excited, as he opened the box to reveal a very good quality and cool-looking leather brown jacket that she stated would suit his broadening shoulders somewhat.

After the gift exchange was over and done with, they went about business as usual, sitting around and relaxing while Eve was trying to psych herself into getting the cooking started for the huge dinner at the end of the day. Just as everyone else was about to start moving around and get on with the million and one things to do that day, Harry jumped at the shrill ringing that broadcasted from right next to him. Having grown accustomed to his phone ringing, Harry easily plucked it out of his pocket and answered with a polite, but confused ‘hello’ - everyone that could possible call him was already with him and his boss was more likely to text him than phone him.

“Harry? Hello?” came the answering voice that he knew all too well. His small smile instantly dropped when he was reminded of the last time he’d had a phone call by this particular person.

“Hello, Hermione.” he greeted respectfully, if somewhat guarded in the tone of his voice. Instantly, the twins’ heads shot up, protective expressions on their faces as they slowly moved to Harry, miming to him if he wanted them to deal with it. Smiling fondly, he shook his head before walking to the back door and to the end of the garden, leaving the household confused, excluding the twins who were sure to fill the rest in while he was gone.

At the bottom of the garden, Harry crossed his arms with a frown on his face as he spoke into the phone receiver, “Look, not that I’m not thrilled to hear your voice, but you could wait until the holidays were over to grill me like you did last time.” he growled softly at the end, a warning in his tone.

“No, Harry,” Hermione sighed, a sound of regret tainting the edges of it, “I called… I called because I miss you - we all do - and I called because I just wanted to tell you that you were right.”

“What?” Harry asked, confused, “Right about what?”

“You were right about us going back to school - back to that war zone, so soon, was a bad idea. The first time I saw where the battle took place… my legs gave out and I started to cry and scream hysterically… I don’t remember the episode, but when I came to myself, I was in the hospital wing where one of the teachers had dropped me off. No one else has faired any better from it…” she trailed off, sounding devastated by the mere memory of it alone. “I’ve never seen Ron so silent after the first few days of school. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but it’s effecting him a lot. He had to be restrained and suspended by one of the teachers when he’d heard a snide comment about the battle… It was awful… The way he just snapped and changed like that…” she breathed out a shaky breath, before trooping on, “I’ve gotten a few books and while the Wizard books on traumatic memory response is lacking, I’ve managed to acquire a few muggle ones to help me out-“

“It’s PTSD, ‘Mione. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’d imagine we’ve all got it. It’s when the brain fixates on a specific memory, that was particularly damaging and can effect our mental state overall. Either by nightmares, flashbacks, or violent and non-violent episodes.” he finished and there was a silence over the other side of the line. He waited patiently for Hermione to respond.

“Yeah, that was the general summery of the text books I read. Look, I didn’t want to leave things sour over the holidays and I wanted to apologise for how I reacted and that I understand, now."

Smiling a small, but genuine smile, Harry nodded, “Thanks, ‘Mione."

“Ron and I have sent over our Christmas presents to you by owl so you should get them to your address in a couple of days.”

“Yeah, I’ve sent mine by eagle, so you should all get yours by some time later today.” he smiled down at the phone, happy to know that their friendship wasn’t so strained that they no longer exchanged presents.

“Have a Merry Christmas, Harry. We love you.”

“Happy Christmas and send the others my love.” Harry finished, before closing the call, his chest feeling lighter than it had in months.

Walking back into the house, Harry was immediately faced with concerned twins, looking both frantic and protective, “What happened?” “Are you okay?” they spoke over the other.

“Guys, it’s fine,” he smiled, “I was just rebuilding bridges.”

“So, you’re cool?” Lucy asked, still slightly concerned.

“More than cool.” Harry agreed.


	8. The next step

** 1 week until leaving date: **

Waking up to the morning sun, Harry rolled over and groaned with the realisation that he’d forgotten to close the blinds once again after going to bed. Continuing with his roll, Harry finally reached the edge of the bed before letting his bottom half fall to the cool wood of the floor, feet landing flatly and solidly. Reluctantly, he pried the rest of his body off from his warm covers and stretched his arms over his head as he yawned.

When he let his arms flop to the sides again, he moodily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before the greens orbs tracked the floor in search for his jeans that he had discarded the day before. Finally finding them in the corner, messily dumped with the rest of his last nightclothes, Harry pulled them on and lazily did the buckle of his belt, his hands climbing up to his hair again as he swept the few dark strands away from his vision.

Still half asleep, Harry strolled around his room before he found himself coming to a stop in front of his floor-length, slim mirror, green eyes focused on his reflection. When he’d first moved in, Harry had considered giving the mirror to one of the girls but found himself keeping it when he continuously forgot to bring it up to them. Usually, his eyes stayed focused on his face, making sure that his hair didn’t look too bad or that there wasn’t some remaining drool on his chin, and then he’d retreat from the room. He didn’t really like looking at his body in its entirety, knowing that it was scarred, branded and pale with ribs sticking too far out at his sides - it made him turn away with shame every time. He’d stopped looking at his whole reflection after his fourth year when all he could see was that long, thick scar down the middle of his forearm that he’d received from Pettigrew...

Looking now, Harry had to blink and rub his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He looked different from the boy-hero that had left England all those months ago. Eyes roaming, Harry took in the healthy glow to his skin, no longer pale and clammy-looking, but bronzed by the exposure to the sun, making the bright green in his eyes stand out more in an exotic kind of way - the loss of glasses helped in making his eyes more noticeable to the average person. The scars were still there and he still hated each one of them, but they seemed faded and old, though the downside would be that the tan had seemed to have brought out more of his smaller scars that blended with his previous pale complexion. While he wasn’t toned or muscular, he seemed healthier, his ribs no longer showing the evidence of his lack of food consumption and his arms were no longer twig-like and easily snap-able which made him look a million times better. Ebony hair once contrasted sickly-pale skin, as well as the black brand that Death had given him, now looked natural with his darker skin complexion. His hair overall was longer, not as long as it had been in his fourth year, but loose and shaggy, curling over the tops of his ears and brushing against his cheekbones, making him look like a teenager that was up to no good than a tired war hero that looked five times older than what he was.

Overall, he looked good and Harry couldn’t help but feel warmth grow in his chest as the observation that he was right to leave England when he did.

Finally locating himself a shirt, Harry pulled it on as he left his room, smiling genuinely at the twins as they sat down at the breakfast bar with three plates, arguing amongst themselves about the party they had all went to last night. That was the main reason why Harry had collapsed into bed and not closed the blinds - though he was thankful that he’d stripped to his underwear this time (stiff jeans was not a good feeling to wake up to).

It had been a nice party with people that you could have a conversation with instead of straining to hear over the thrumming music. He’d accidentally bumped into the guy he’d made out with at his first party, but neither had remembered one another as they passed one another in the room, Harry’s friends snickering into their hands when they had pulled him aside and told him. All he could say was that drunk-Harry had taste. The rest of the evening passed and Harry could still walk in a relatively straight line as he forced a stumbling Thomas to drink a whole bottle of water on their way home.

“Morning, Vixens.” Harry greeted as he sat down, quickly popping a grape into his mouth. His smile only widened when he didn’t even get an eye roll at his comment.

“Good morning.” both greeted, more concentrated on their food than anything else.

“What you planning to do today?” Lucy asked as she lazily turned her head to face Harry.

“I was going to hand in my notice at work before coming back here to pack up some more things.” Harry listed, looking at the folded boxes in the corner that he needed to pack his things away in. He didn’t have a lot of belonging in all fairness and most of it could be filed away into a bottomless bag or something, but he couldn’t explain away how his things had all been packed and with him when there was little evidence of it being there. Mostly it was just books and clothes that he needed to pack away - he now had a ton of more books after Christmas when Hermione had decided that his present from her would be studying books from beginners and advanced in all subjects so that Harry could learn something while he was out there (there must have been about fifty books!).

“What? No!” Lucy groaned, having made it her mission to verbally object to Harry leaving whenever it came up in a conversation.

“Cool,” Daisy shrugged, “Want some help?”

“No! Days! What are you doing?!” Lucy whisper-yelled at her twin with betrayal shining in her eyes, “We’re not supposed to be helping him leave when we want him to stay!”

Deftly, Daisy ignored her sister and looked to Harry for an answer, who chuckled and shook his head at their antics, “I’ll be fine. It’s just a few books.”

“A few?” Lucy asked incredulously, “You had about a hundred books when you came here and then that Herm-girl sent over a hundred more. I wouldn’t call that ‘a few’.”

“Hermione,” Harry corrected easily, knowing how the odd name of his friend had a lot of people forgetting it, “And in my eyes, it’s only a few books.”

“You could fill up a damn library with your books,” Lucy grumbled, her twin nodding in agreement with her cheeks puffed with her toast and jam.

Rolling his eyes, Harry decided for a change of subject, “So what're you guys planning today? I know you have lessons, but is anything else happening?”

Both shook their heads, the artist of the pair starting, “I’ve completed about half of my portfolio that my professor wanted to check over so that I could get into an art school overseas or something - we’re actually going to take a trip to Venice for a semester to do some paintings of our own. I’m not sure when, but it should be this year if not next year."

“We’re going to be moving our studies to the more criminology side of the course as we’re going to be looking at how serial killers think as well as psychopaths and sociopaths, who can be more inclined to murder due to their lack of understanding of human society and their displacement in it. That can be linked to Merry Shelley’s Frankenstein when the Monster kills people when he is rejected by society - it can’t understand or fit in so reacts with violence or embracing the roll in which they think others will deem worthy of it.” Lucy explained with a light in her eyes that could only be called a pure expression of passion for the subject.

“Maybe you should pick up a criminology degree? You seem to be really interested in that side of phycology.” Harry pointed out the obvious but smiled when Lucy seemed surprised by the recommendation and then seemed to internally debate about it before putting it aside for the time being.

“What about you?” Lucy countered, resting her face in her hands with her elbows propped up on the table.

Dark eyebrows rose at the question, “What about me?”

“Well, what are you planning to - you know…” she gestured vaguely at something.

Continuing to frown in confusion, Harry shook his head, “I really don’t.”

“Genius over here is trying to ask what you will study when you go back to school,” Daisy put in, Lucy snapping her fingers and pointing to Daisy to indicate the correctness, “You talk about going back to school after you graduate and stuff, but what are you going to study, or what are you hoping to get a job in?”

Harry hesitated at the question, brows furrowing when he thought about it, head tilted to the side, “Well, I’ve always assumed that I’d go into the police force or a special task force. My friend and I had talked about joining the academy for years when we were in school, though I guess I won't be going with him now,” he shrugged, “It’s what my dad and his friends before they died had done - I just thought that I could do the same, be a little closer to him.”

“Makes sense for you to want to do that,” Lucy admitted, making all her internal analyses of his choice psychologically.

“What did your mum do?” Daisy asked, curious about Harry’s family as the teen doesn’t seem to like talking about them much.

Surprisingly, to the twins, Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. My parents died when I was one. My Aunt never liked talking about her or my father and anyone at the school that I asked, like their former professors and such, really just talked about my dad. I only really know that my mum had red hair, got into the same schoolhouse as me, was really smart, especially at chemistry - her professor put her into an elite group for it - and I have her eyes.” he finished, the last one making him remember dark brown eyes - muttering that very thing with blood on their pale lips - staring into nothing… There was a moment of silence within the room before Harry shook off the memories and tried for a smile, but it came out more of a grimace than anything else. A moment of awkward silence longer and Harry clapped his hands loudly together, making the twins jump and glare at the suddenness of it, “So anything else you’ve heard around Uni? Any girls get into a fight? Any guys get arrested? Any history teachers that have been fired yet?”

Daisy smirked slightly and shook her head, “No, Helen wasn’t fired. I think she got off with a light warning and that’s only because you’re not technically a student there so…”

“Damn.”

“Oh!” Lucy suddenly yelled, eyes going wide like she’d had some kind of epiphany, “I was talking to this girl in my class and she told me about this tattoo parlour place that did discounts for first-timers - I thought that maybe we could check it out, get something done?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve already got a tattoo so…” Harry shrugged, taking the last swing of his orange juice before hopping out of his seat and gathering up the plates to put in the dishwasher, ready to put on a clean.

“It doesn’t have to be a tattoo,” Lucy went on, “I was thinking about all of us getting something pierced? An ear or a nose - to remember our time together and that!” she finished enthusiastically.

“I don’t think I’d be able to forget…” Harry trailed off with a shudder, a mock-look of horror on his face before Daisy reached over and slapped him around the head, all of them chuckling.

“I’m being serious,” Lucy got back on track, “Maybe we can get something to symbolise our time together before you leave.” she looked to Harry, a sadness in her expression that she got whenever they mentioned him moving away.

Thinking about it, Harry finally nodded, going with the train of thought that the changed they’d recommended him so far had been great so why not indulge this one, “Okay.” and no sooner had he got the first syllable out of his mouth did Lucy jump up with excitement and hug him.

“Great! I’ve already got one picked out for you and the appointment is in two days!” Lucy rushed out, smiling so brightly, she was like the summer sun.

“Wait. You-“ harry tried to get out but was cut off as she loudly kissed his cheek and jumped away from him.

“Right! Gotta get to class, now! Bye!” and then the door was slammed shut and Harry was still left there with a gaping mouth.

After a few moments, his brain caught up with the event and he rolled his eyes, mouth closing as he moved to put the kettle on. “How you lived with your sister all your life - I’ll never know…” Harry groaned to Daisy, who was just finishing her breakfast with one last corner of her dry toast.

“I had a lock on my door.”

* * *

** 6 days until leaving date: **

“Hey, Hadrian,” Thomas hedged, leaning against the counter while they were at work and it just happened to be Harry’s last shift before he no longer worked there.

“Yeah?” he asked, suppressing a yawn as he continued to clean out some cups and hang them from the hooks at the front of the counter.

“Did- Did Lucy, by any chance, come up to you a force you go to this group thing that we’re having-“

“About the tattoo parlour and forcing us to get piercings? Yeah. Booked it up without me even knowing it,” he sighed, pausing for a moment before picking up his rag, turning to Thomas with a small smirk, “She get to you too?”

He nodded, “Dave too.”

“Wow, colour me surprised. Captain America’s going to get an ear pierced.” Harry raised his eyebrows in no small amount of shock, grinning once again when Thomas snorted at Harry’s nickname.

“Captain America? That’s almost a compliment.” Thomas snickered, before he laughed outright, gaining Harry’s full attention with a quirked eyebrow, “You’re Tony Stark. I’m Bruce Banner and the twins are practically Loki split in two!” he laughed outright, earning a chuckle and an eye roll from the Brit.

“What you going to get at the parlour anyways?” Harry asked, curious.

“I was thinking of doing my eyebrow, maybe? Or perhaps my tongue? Yeah, that’s concealable, isn’t it?” Thomas thought out loud, fingers coming up to rub at his chin.

“Sure, but I’ll bet it’d be painful.” Harry pointed out.

In response, Thomas only shrugged, before firing the same question back at Harry, “And you?”

“Top of my left ear. I think Lucy wanted to choose what goes in though. I hope it’s nothing bad, like a dumb American flag or something…” Harry trailed off in mock horror.

Thomas just cleared his throat, looking completely unimpressed with his hip cocked and his hand planted there, one eyebrow raised to complete the picture, “You got something against America, dipshit?”

Sagely, Harry nodded, “Most definitely. I have to live with them, you see-“ he was then cut off by his own laughter when Thomas quickly grabbed his lightly stained rag and tried to throw it at Harry’s face, the teen effectively dodging.

By the end of the shift, Harry’s manager had come onto the scene and had given him a going-away cupcake that was from the glassed-off sweet display below the coffee and allowing him to keep his uniform as a token and memento from the first job he’d ever worked. Thomas seemed to smile at that and turned to his manager to ask the same, but was viciously turned down with good heart, before dismissing Harry for the final time and setting to lock up for the night.

* * *

** 5 days until leaving date: **

The tattoo parlour seemed kind of cool, in Harry’s eyes. The waiting room was lined with worn, but comfortable black leather sofas and the walls were framed with an odd picture of the team that worked there, each of them with their tattoo guns or ink-pots. The rest of the wall was covered in an odd assortment of colours, looking as if they’d gotten bails of paint and then threw them at the walls between the parts that resembled a detailed tattoo on the wall with a colourful dragon meandering around the boxed room, splatters of paint disturbing the edges of it. It looked like it might have taken hours, but it was time well spent as it looked breathtakingly beautiful.

The receptionist was nice, though she had a face full of piercings and tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arms and neck - she was nice and friendly all the same. Daisy was chatting with the girl as they all nervously waited their turn, the artsy twin having done some time in this particular parlour when looking for some more work experience. She’d taken up the receptionist job before Mindy had taken over, and while she could have gotten any piercing or tattoo she wanted with a huge discount, she hadn’t been interested at the time.

Harry was booked last to go in with Lucy keeping the stud she’d picked out for him a secret, wanting it to be a surprise. Dave was intending to his right ear-lobe pierced with a thick black ring and he was very happy with the result. Harry couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that anybody else with that piercing and Dave’s side would be considered extremely dangerous and in the ‘avoid’ pile for Harry, but Dave still looked more like a damn kitten that a thug. Lucy was currently on the chair, getting a black bar through the top of her ear - it was like two piercings in one, but Lucy seemed more excited than scared as she bounced her way into the room.

Thomas was in a different room getting his tongue pierced because he wanted to hide it from his parents for a while before he revealed it to them on their death bed. Thomas wasn’t really one to stick his tongue out when being childish so it wouldn’t be a problem to hide. Daisy was planning on getting a nose piercing on the left - she just wanted a black or silver stud.

A few minutes later and Harry was left alone, an older stranger having left a different room and handing over the money - happy with his new tattoo around his muscled bicep, which now had cling-film around it to minimise the exposure to air. She kissed him on the cheek and told him to calm down before wishing him luck and then strutted off to the different room when her name was called.

Breathing out slowly, Harry rubbed his hands together, fingers running over the bumps of the scars on his hands, mindlessly tracing over the words, deep in thought. Why exactly was he nervous about getting a simple piercing when he’d gone through so much more pain than a little stab through the ear - probably not even going to cause it to bleed. Legs jiggling and breathing out slowly, Harry finally had enough as he vaulted himself up to his feet and grabbed a book, calloused fingers turning over the plastic-covered pages as he scanned over the different tattoo designs, marvelling at the patterns and colours against the skin. He thought about the brand that Death had given him, that triangle monstrosity in which was forced upon him at his moment of death and wondered if the deity would rein hell down upon him if he were to cover up the black lines with a tattoo, maybe something to mock Death (maybe then he’d kill Harry?), but shook the thought off and closed the book, picking up another.

When it was his turn, Harry had gone through half of his second book and he smiled at Lucy when she came out with a beaming smile, head turned to display the bar across her ear, the skin a little red around the area, but otherwise looked good.

“Luc, you look great.” he complimented, a bright smile on his face.

“Why thank you RG!” she cheered, ruffling his dark locks, “I’ve already given Jeff the piercing you’ll be getting, so why don’t you go in there now and get it done. After this, we can get dinner out? Burger House sound good?”

“Sounds great,” he smiled before he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead, “I’ll see you on the other side.” and then went in.

The room itself was the complete opposite of the waiting room. The floor was white tiled and the walls were also white, the absence of colour made even brighter with the florescent light overhead. The black chair was plump with cushioning and pristinely clean, though it seemed intimidating to Harry…

Jeff smiled at Harry when the Wizard had finished making his obvious observations to his workplace and he found himself blushing scarlet at the realisation of it hit Harry. Instead, Harry stepped forward, hand extended out for a shake, which the heavily muscled blonde eagerly returned, “Hi, I’m Harry.”

“Jeff.” he smiled and nodded, moved to the side to pick up a pen, “I’m going to be drawing a dot on your ear and you can look in this mirror and tell me if it’s good or not. You want a helix ear piercing, right?” at Harry’s nod, the man smiled and then made a small marking on Harry’s ear. It was a little bit high, so Harry made the man lower it a fraction before looking in the mirror critically, trying to imagine a stud there, before nodding and facing the man with a smile.

“Okay, this is good.” he nodded as he hopped into the chair, scooting further back before leaning back, “So what is the piercing going to look like?”

Jeff placed his finger in the air before he rummaged into the small boxed behind him, taking a plastic needle and putting it on the table before picking up something wrapped and off to the side, handing it to Harry, It was black with silver flecks and a silver stem down the middle - a feather. It was small but pretty as it curled around in a loop, kept together as the stem of the feather came straight across with a ball attached to the end, making it so that it wouldn’t come out of place.

“Just tell me if you don’t like it. We can get you another one.” Jeff stated coolly like he’d repeated the same thing about a dozen times over.

“No, it looks really cool.” Harry smiled, handing the feather piercing over to the professional before he leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

After Jeff fiddled with the chair, making it higher to make his life easier, and then rubbed something cold on his ear, telling him with a low and calm voice what he was doing the whole time. Harry flinched slightly with a wince as the insertion was made, the man still clam and such as Harry felt something go through his ear. Then it was over and Jeff was handing him a sheet of instructions about putting saltwater on the front and back of it twice a day.

When he walked back out of the parlour, Harry now had a black and silver feather piercing to show his time spent in America and with these wonderful people. His friends greeted him in the waiting room, still raving and talking over one another as he handed over the money and smiled back at his friends as they all headed out of the store.

“It looks so cool, Harry!” Lucy practically shouted in his ear, fingers twitching like she wanted to touch it.

“Yeah, Har, it really suits you.” Dave smiled and the others nodded.

“Thanks,” he smiled as they walked down the street, following their feet to their usual burger bar. Then he turned to Lucy with a curious frown, “Why a feather, by the way?”

“Well it’s that we first met on the plain and I didn’t think you’d like a little silver plain on our ear,” she laughed, but then she turned more serious, hand gently grabbing ahold of Harry’s, "Feathers also symbolise new beginnings, and this is kind of a new beginning for you, away from whatever happened to you in England. You’ve progressed so much since I first met you and I’m happy to have helped you rebuild yourself after whatever happened to you.” she squeezed his hand and Harry smiled down at her warmly in thanks, lightly squeezing back.

“Thanks,” he whispered to her, before breaking out into a huge smile and shouting to the group as a whole, “Let's get some food!” laughing cheerfully when the others cheered and fist-bumped or punched the air in celebration, making the Brit shake his head in wonder at the antics.

* * *

** 3 days until leaving date: **

It was just a lazy day as Harry sat around. Most of his things were already packed and Thomas was at work while the others were finishing up with their classes. So, as a day of rest, Harry found himself sitting on the sofa, a glass of cold butterbeer in hand as he fondly flicked through his photo albums, the one that Thomas had gifted him at Christmas as well as the one with all of his Hogwarts photographs with his friends as well as his mother and father and his friends (though he ripped up all the ones that featured the skanky rat Peter Perrigrew). His fingers graced the moving pictures with soft fingers tracing the faces that he loved so much, some of them he’d never met or that he’d never seen that happy. He turned the page and his fingers froze over the familiar picture of him and the Weasley twins, all moving their wands simultaneously to let lose a shower of rainbow fireworks, coming down as glitter, their smiles wide and amazed as they held out their hands to catch a few - and then it started over. Fed and George. So young and mischievous. You could never imagine one without the other…

Snapping the book closed, Harry sniffed before firmly wiping away his tears that had escaped his iron control. Finishing the rest of his beer, he set the empty glass in the skin before scooping up the albums and dropping them into a cardboard box. Picking up one of the books Hermione had sent him, Harry settled back down on the sofa, easily reading through the book on ancient runes - a subject that Hermione had wanted Harry and Ron to take with her and was still trying, though he was starting to enjoy it now that he’d worked around the introduction.

Hours later, the others found Harry asleep on the sofa, heavy tome cradled to his chest and smiled to one another before creeping into the kitchen. With Lucy’s fingers plugging her ears, Daisy opened up the drawer under the oven.

CRASH!

“AHH!” Harry screamed, jolted awake and blindly searched around for where he was until his eyes landed on the laughing twins, Daisy holding a pair of saucepans. “DAISY!”

“Quick! Run, big sister! Run!”

* * *

** 1 day until leaving date: **

“So do you wanna go out? Do something for our last night together?” Dave asked as they huddled around a coffee table that Thomas was still working at, the brunette wiping tables close by.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t want to do anything big. I just want to sit down on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn and a movie that I haven’t watched yet.”

“Fair enough.” Daisy shrugged after a moment of thought, smiling at Harry, “It’s your last night after all.”

Nodding, Harry settled for his idea with a smile, “Yeah, I’d rather spend my last day in LA with my three favourite people and Thomas,” “Hey!” “Than spend it at a party with a bunch of strangers that have never even heard my name before.”

“I’m in. I’m not really a party animal so I’m cool with it. Not sure about Thomas though…” Dave trailed off, an expression of thought on his face but it turned into a small smirk when Thomas once again shouted an offended, “Hey!”

Said offended strode over, hip cocked, “Not only do I feel offended and attacked by these assumptions, but I also think this ‘staying in’ thing is a great idea.” and then strode away with an exaggerated wiggle of his bum that set the others snickering into their hands.

“This up to your standards, milady?” Harry asked with an exaggerated posh accent, smiling wider when Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Yes, it’s fine. I wasn’t actually going to throw a party,” she rolled her eyes again, but her chin fell in her hand depressingly with a pout on her lips, “We’ve left it too late now…” earning a laugh around the table.

Later that night, Harry was snuggled in between the girls, the brunettes leaning their heads over his chest, dozing as Harry kept his eyes on the screen, eyes admiring the form in which Katniss held and fired her bow, wondering quietly if he could learn how to use such a weapon, or maybe dagger, or a sword? Perhaps he could learn in his travels? The possibilities of learning were endless and Harry found himself filled with nervous excitement as he watched the movie play on, mind wondering to a possibility of actually living in such a dystopian era.

Green eyes glancing to Thomas and Dave, he smirked slightly when he saw them sleeping with one another. Dave was sprawled out on the sofa, head tilted back against the back of the sofa and mouth gaping open as if to catch flies. In kind, Thomas was also sprawled out, but he was on his front, chest to chest with David as they slept on, completely oblivious to Harry’s barely stifled chuckles, the lanky barista’s hands loosely wrapped around the other in a sort-of embrace, Dave reciprocating the embrace by wrapping his arm around Thomas, large hand easily covering the smaller’s left butt cheek. Shaking with his restrained chuckles, Harry gently shook off the twins, who instantly curled up together to bridge the gap, hand tentatively took out his phone from his jean pocket, glad that the twins had badgered him into getting one when he’d first met them, and took around five pictures from all angles. By the time mischief was finished, Harry had to shove his fist in his mouth in order to keep his laughter from exploding out of him.

Looking down at the captured moment, Harry’s grin widened - it was sure to be a photograph to show both their spouses when they were to be wed!

A chuckle escaped his lips as he turned off the television, credits nearly finished, before walking to his room, preparing to sleep in his bed for the last time… Looking forlornly at the empty room that was once filled with his belongings, Harry turned off his light and climbed into bed.

* * *

** Leaving date: **

“Lucy! Daisy! I have to leave now! I can’t travel all over the world when it looks like I’ve merged with my two triplets in the womb!” Harry yelled out in exasperation, arms pinned to his side as the girls hugged him and just didn’t seem keen on letting him go. He heard the chuckle overhead and glared at the two men as they ignored the assault and carried on placing Harry’s luggage into the back of his car, happy that his choice in transportation had a huge boot as well as space underneath the back chairs, made a little bigger with the help of Harry’s magic, but not so obvious as to raise any suspicion. 

Noticing his Glare of Death, Dave just shrugged and laughed, “It’s your fault. You should have ran in the other direction when you met the first one, let alone the second."

Harry’s glare was borderline death-ray at that moment and he would have thrown something at the laughing duo, but he still found his arms pinned and so rested his head on Lucy’s shoulder, huffing a breath of exasperation. If he used Lucy’s shoulder as an excuse to hide his sad smile, no one was there to notice.

“Alright. Alright. C’mon girls. Let go of the RG, now.” he gently attempted to encourage them with awkward pats to both of them.

Both laughed brightly at the use of his own nickname, “I see you're finally embracing it!” Daisy cheered, wiping away a stray tear.

“Any of us ever have kids, Harry’s gonna be Uncle RG!” Lucy declared enthusiastically, though it didn’t have the same effect as she sniffled loudly and wiped away a loose tear as well. Smiling fondly at the first friend he’d made in America, Harry drew her in for a fierce hug, both of them clinging to one another, Harry cradling her head to his shoulder and Lucy gripping his shirt in bunches as if desperate to not let go. There were no words needed between them, the hug said all that needed to be said.

Turning, Harry caught Daisy as she rushed into his chest, knocking him back a few steps and nearly sending him hurtling into Lucy. Laughing at her eagerness, Harry hugged her tightly to express all his love.

“If you’re ever in trouble, or even need a chat, don’t you dare hesitate to call us. Ever. We’ll always be here and you’ll always be apart of our lives. You understand?” she demanded, voice muffled slightly in his shirt as they started to sway side to side into their hug.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Dais. I promise,” he replied with just as much feeling, willing the sting in his eyes to go away, “I have my phone and we’ll talk all the time. I’ve even got all your numbers memorised in case I lose it, okay?” he felt a nod against his shoulder, “I’m gonna be fine and so are you.”

When he let go, Daisy’s whole face was streaked in tears and he gently guided her to Lucy, who took her twin into her arms fiercely as she whispered comforting things into her ear, stroking her jet black hair in a rhythmic pattern. Lucy gave him a wobbly smile from over her sister’s shoulder, giving him the ‘okay'.

Next to envelope him into a hug was Dave as he practically charged at Harry, wrapping his large arms around him as he picked him up and swung him around like he was nothing but a small child he wanted to greet. When Harry’s feet finally met gravel, both males were laughing and smiling brightly despite the tears in their eyes as they separated. “Just don’t be a stranger, okay?” Dave asked, looking down at the short teen that had grown so much and in so many different ways since he’d first met him all those months ago. God, had it only been months? He’d felt like he and the others had known Harry for years…

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Harry stated in a determined and serious tone, “You’ll always have a place in my heart as my BFG friend.” he grinned with good cheer.

With a wet chuckle and a last ruffle to Harry’s silky black locks, Dave drew him in for one last brief hug before stepping away - reluctantly so, the others could clearly see.

Finally, Harry stepped up to Thomas, who had been watching the emotional goodbyes with crossed arms, leaning against his car and waiting. Giving the lanky brunette a shy smile, Harry opened up his arms in suggesting a hug and didn’t have to wait long until another body slammed into his own, Harry managing to catch him with a step back. “Stay safe.” Thomas stated and poured every amount of seriousness he could ever possess into those two words alone, both getting a little choked up as Harry nodded his head frantically, whispering an “I will.” to him like it was their secret promise to one another.

Then, the stepped back, clearing their throats and slapping one another on the shoulder as they muttered, “See ya mate” and “Chow” in an attempt to gather their manliness. They could only hold up the act for so long as they paused for a moment and looked one another in the eye, before bursting out into peels of laughter, taking one another into a companionable side hug and letting go.

Wiping away the stray tears that were threatening to fall down his cheeks, though his smile was wide and happy as he turned to look at them all. They were all smiling brightly at him now, bathing him in their warm stares of pride at what he had accomplished in the small amount of time that he had been there; Harry had the sneaking suspicion that they would have been proud of him no matter what he did in the end (as long as he kept off drugs of course - damn could Lucy be scary when it came to the subject of drug use and alcohol).

Stooping down to pick up his rucksack that he’d packed with his food and money as well as everything he needed to pass the border into Mexico, he slung it onto his shoulder before carrying it over to the passenger side of his car, placing it on the floor of his passenger seat before picking up his satnav, that he’d bought a few weeks ago, and deftly typed in the coordinates that were his desired destination.

When he’d stuck the navigation system to his windscreen, he pulled himself out of his car and walked around to the driver’s seat. He looked back at his friends as he smiled warmly at them all, none of them would know how much he truly loved them all. Digging into his pockets, Harry found four cool objects that brushed his warm flesh and took them all out. Stepping close to his friends again he held up the tokens with a smile, his smile turning into a grin when he caught their confused gazes, “They’re ‘see you later’ presents. Just something to remember me by.” he smiled.

He handed each of them a gold round object that any decent Wizard would immediately identify as a galleon though it had no real value as it had been copied from a real one and adjusted by his magic. He’d pierced a small hole through each of them and a gold chain threaded through it, on the side he had engrained all of their names onto it, first and last with the dates that they were together arched on the front. Lucy gasped with surprised delight when she saw this cradling her coin to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world to her.

“How did you afford this?” Daisy asked with awe, securing her’s around her neck before helping her twin.

“The coins are something from my school that we got to keep,” Harry shrugged, “A friend of mine taught me to do the letters and such,” he then pulled his own one out of his pocket and flipped it between his fingers, smiling at them, "Do you like it?” he asked, suddenly feeling uncertain.

They all smiled brightly, all of them now wearing the coins that, unbeknownst to them, Harry had put a magical fail-safe on there, the coins charmed to notify him if they were ever in trouble so that he could come back to where they were and help in any way that he could. He could only hope that they kept it on them for the majority of the time that he was gone. Immediately, Harry was swept up in a group hug, warm bodies clinging to him on all sides. For a moment he revealed in the warmth of the embrace and briefly contemplated calling the whole thing off and staying with them forever, but immediately banished the idea as soon as it came to mind. While Harry could visit his friends in the muggle world, he had little to no intentions of staying in the muggle world and out of the Wizarding one. He wanted to do this. Desperately. And he was determined to see all that he could in the world he’d missed out in.

Giving them one last squeezing in the group hug, he wiggled to get out and they reluctantly released him from their mothering holds.

Hand on the door handle, Harry waved and smiled at them once more before opening it and slipping behind the wheel. Checking everything in the mirrors and turning on his engine, he placed his car into drive and gently pressed his accelerator down, his car moving around from the curb and down the street.

Looking into his mirror, Harry couldn’t help but smile widely when his friends were waving their arms and jumping up and down, their voices barely carrying as they shouted their collective ‘bye’s and ‘come back soon’s, looking completely insane. Harry laughed outright when he caught a few people looking at his friends oddly, crossing the street to avoid them with plenty of backward glances to make sure they didn’t go berserk and attack them.

Pressing his horn twice, he raised his hand out of his open-top as a last goodbye before turning the corner and then they were out of sight and hearing range. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry blinked away his tears as he continued to drive away. He knew that he would see them again, there was no way he would survive the wrath of Lucy and Daisy if he were to stay away from them, but it was still hard to leave them behind…

Clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders, Harry put on a determined face as he followed the directions of the satnav, it was time to return to his world. It was time for Harry to start a new chapter of his life.

And so, on the 31st of January, Harry drove out of LA, driving south to the border with his stomach full of butterflies and a smile on his face. He just knew this was going to be epic…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad to get this up and finished!  
Thanks, everyone, for your patience!
> 
> Next story in line: Soul Staff


End file.
